Leather and Lace
by Obsessedtwibrarian
Summary: It's Bella's 21st birthday and her best friend, Alice, has bought her a very special gift. What was supposed to be a night of meaningless fun, turns into something more.
1. Chapter 1: Dinner and Dancing

**Chapter 1: Dinner and Dancing**

**Author's Note: **This story was posted a long time ago on this site, but I removed it when the 10 year old kids were reporting Twilight fics. They don't seem to care any longer, so I'm reposting. A note on content: This story starts out very lemony with a threesome, but it doesn't stay that way. I also write Jacob in a very positive way. Bella's inner musings were not copied from E.L. James (as I have been accused of). I wrote this a long time before I ever looked at the first chapter of MOTU. There is an HEA for every character in this story. (Well, almost every character.)

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><p><strong>BELLA…<strong>

"Friday's the big day, Bella! The big two-one. So, whatcha got planned?"

Alice, my best friend in the entire world, sat cross-legged on my second-hand goodwill sofa and was practically bursting at the seams with excitement over the prospect of my twenty-first birthday, which was due to arrive in less than a week. I didn't share her enthusiasm. To me, it was just another day.

"Oh, let's see," I said, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling and pretending to be deep in thought. "I thought I'd drag out that cute little red fuck me dress I bought at Walmart, put on that pair of matching screw me stilettos I bought at Payless Shoes, and then hit the bars. After I get good and shit-faced on Screwdrivers, then I thought I'd invite some strange guy home with me who looks just like Johnny Depp, and let him do me in every room of my apartment."

"Oooh, sounds juicy, but Johnny Depp doesn't do it for me. He's a little strange. I'm more of an Eminem kind of girl. You know I _love_ the bad boy types." Alice giggled evilly. "So, which bar are we hitting and what are you _really_ wearing?"

"Alice!" I rolled my eyes and laughed at just how easy she was. "You big dummy. I'm staying home. There's an Alfred Hitchcock marathon on that weekend that I've been looking forward to for forever."

"_What?!_ Alfred Hitchcock?!" Alice unfolded her legs and assumed the "serious girl-talk" position: hands on hips, back ramrod straight, perched on the edge of the sofa, and an indignant scowl. "Alfred Hitchcock does _not_ look like Johnny Depp. Not even close. You can't spend your twenty-first birthday with a pot-bellied old man who's been dead for a million years."

"Alfred Hitchcock was a filmmaking genius, I'll have you know. I'll bet you didn't know that he pioneered a lot of the camera techniques you see in movies today."

"No, I didn't know that, and I'm going to try my best to forget it as soon as I can," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Look, I don't want to make a big deal out of this, Alice. I just want to spend a nice evening at home. Alone."

She sighed. "It's been almost six months since you and Mike broke up. You need to start dating."

"I don't want to date. Dating means strings and I don't want to be someone's marionette again," I said stubbornly.

"Okay, then don't date. Just have some fun. Some nice meaningless sex would be a good place to start." Alice grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.

_Meaningless sex?_ I shook my head at her in disbelief that she could even suggest I do something so shallow. "Thanks, but I think I'll stick with Alfred."

* * *

><p>Friday finally arrived. Work seemed to last forever. Every single person who passed my cubicle wished me a happy birthday and offered suggestions on how I should spend it: everything from male strippers to drug and alcohol-induced orgies. Didn't anyone believe in quiet solitude anymore? After lunch, the switchboard sent a call to my desk phone.<p>

"Hello?"

"_Bella, it's Alice! OMG I have the best news! I snagged you a reservation for tonight at Bossa Nova! Happy Birthday!"_

Bossa Nova? That restaurant was seriously ritzy and way out of my price range, but when it came to money, Alice had no boundaries. She lavished her friends with a constant supply of outrageously expensive gifts and refusing her was simply out of the question. I sighed softly. "Alice, uh, thanks but what would I wear to a place like that?"

"_That blue and black slinky number you wore to your Christmas party last year will do fine. Black pumps and a few simple accessories and voila! You're smoking hot!"_

"I guess that'll work, but I'm not going to eat alone." Nothing screamed desperate like a woman dining by herself in a crowded restaurant.

"_Bella….." _ She growled at me through the phone, which made me smile. _"Would I do that to you? Of course you won't be alone. So, can Alfred wait long enough for you to have a nice dinner and some pleasant conversation?"_

Alice was such a thoughtful friend. I couldn't say no to her. I just couldn't. I smiled to myself. "Sure. That sounds really nice. Thank you."

* * *

><p>Alice had gone completely overboard…<em>again.<em> I was seated at a tiny table, front and center, right smack in the middle of the restaurant, which was _not_ where I wanted to be. Three place settings complete with delicate crystal wine glasses and flowery china plates ringed the table. _Three place settings? _Hmmm…one for me, one for Alice, but who was the third one for?

A waiter, all decked out in a black tux with tails, approached my table with a bottle. "Miss Bella Swan?"

When I nodded, he uncorked the bottle and began to fill my glass. "Compliments of the two gentleman at the bar."

_Two gentlemen at the bar?_ I whipped around to check out the customers at the bar but they all had their backs to me. Puzzled, I turned back around only to find the said two gentlemen now sitting across from me at my table. I did a double take. On closer inspection, I realized that these were _not_ just two gentlemen. No. These were two god-like specimens of man flesh too beautiful to even be walking around among ordinary people. One was dark. Dark eyes, dark hair, deeply tanned skin, and his navy suit hugged his broad shoulders in a very appealing way. The other was light. Light eyes, light skin, but beautiful contrasting bronze-colored hair. He was thinner, with an expertly tailored gray suit that fit him like a second skin.

"Happy Birthday, Bella." Both of them smiled warmly at me, but it was the bronze-haired Adonis who'd spoken. Three innocent words, but the smooth sensuous voice that had delivered them sent a jolt of something sharp and hot down my stomach and straight into my hooha. _Oh geez. It's been awhile since that's happened, Bella._

"Uh…thank you." I managed a smile. I mean, what else could I do? "And you are…?"

A hand shot across the table, the one with the short, dark hair and the dusky skin. "I'm Jacob Black, and this is my associate Edward Cullen." I reached out to shake his hand and instead found my fingers clinging lightly to his lips, which were shapely and full, and a beautiful shade of man-pink. _Oh holy crapamoley, he's kissing my hand with those lips!_

Then the "associate", Edward Cullen, chuckled softly and glanced Jacob's way. "My turn, Jake. Don't be selfish."

Jacob Black passed my hand ever so tenderly to Edward, who then kissed my fingers some more with his _own_ set of gorgeous lips, and oh God, his fingers! So long and thin and warm and….

"Uh, could you excuse me for just a moment?" I retrieved my hand as gracefully as possible and shot up from the table. I retreated to a far corner of the restaurant, near the restrooms, far enough away so that they couldn't overhear my conversation, but still close enough to keep them in my sights. I dug out my cell and called Alice.

"_Hey girlfriend. How's it going?"_

"Alice, what the hell is going on? Where are you? You're supposed to be _here_…with _me!_"

"_I never said I was going with you. I just said I wouldn't let you eat alone." _ She giggled mischievously. Oooh, I was going to choke her when I saw her again.

"Who are these two guys sitting at my table? Do you know them?"

"_No, silly. I don't know them. They're from Leather and Lace."_

_Leather and Lace?_ It took a few moments for that phrase to process, and when the light bulb finally came on I wanted to run from the restaurant screaming, preferably with a butcher knife in my hand and headed straight for Mary Alice Brandon's palatial mansion. Leather and Lace was an escort service, a very _exclusive_ escort service.

"I'm supposed to eat dinner with two prostitutes?!" I exclaimed, evidently just a little too loudly, because the heads of the nearest customers turned in my direction. I turned away, while still keeping my eyes on the occupants of my table. They seemed to be engaged in deep conversation. I didn't even want to imagine what topic they were discussing so earnestly. Who was going to be on top, perhaps?

"_They aren't prostitutes, honey. They're escorts. But if it helps, just think of them as fantasy engineers, highly trained and highly SKILLED fantasy engineers." _ Another giggle on her end.

I growled at her through the phone. "Aliiiiice!"

"_Okay, okaaaay. I'm being serious now. They really are highly trained men, Bella. Leather and Lace is a legitimate and respectable company with an exclusive clientele. Very expensive. These two guys are yours for the evening to do with as you please. So just relax and let them do their job. Listen honey, I have a beep. I gotta go. Happy Birthday!"_

I stared down at the screen of my phone. _Call ended: 6:43 pm._

_The end_ of _Mary Alice Brandon's life?:_ at my earliest convenience _tomorrow, _that is if I survived _tonight._

Their conversation stopped as soon as I arrived back at the table. "Is everything all right?" Jacob Black this time, his voice low and husky, a bedroom voice if I ever heard one.

I nodded, smiled and wondered just what in the hell I was supposed to talk about with two male prostitu-er, _escorts, _for the rest of the meal.

Thankfully, the waiter arrived with menus. A good five minutes was taken up in deciding what food to order. It was rather amusing to listen to them argue softly with each other over whether to choose this item or that item. I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from the both of them as they sparred quietly over the menu choices. They acted like two life-long friends just hanging out together, instead of two "working guys" on the clock.

The waiter left with our orders, which left _us_ with a really long stretch of time to fill with polite conversation. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Sex God #1 (that would be Edward Cullen) was the first one to break the uncomfortable silence.

"We have some business we need to dispense with, unfortunately, before we go any further." He slipped a hand inside of his dark gray suit and came out with a cream colored envelope. "We're from Leather and Lace and we've been contracted to spend the evening with you, and to help you have the most pleasant twenty-first birthday possible." He laid the envelope on the table, raised his soulful bluish gray eyes to mine, and pushed it slowly in my direction. "Everything you need to know is in there. We highly recommend that you read over it very carefully."

Sex God #2 (that would be Jacob Black) groaned and then laughed softly. "God, Edward, you're scaring her to death. You're making it sound like it's a prenup or a waiver before brain surgery or something." Then he looked at me and grinned crookedly. "It's just the fine print, Bella, but we're required to show it to you."

_Fine print? _Riiiight. Prostitutes had fine print. Huh. You learned something new every day. I picked it up. My name was printed across the front in elegant script: _Isabella Marie Swan._

I pulled out the thick, creamy stationery and unfolded it. It was written in the same script as my name on the front. I skimmed and scanned the page. The really important keywords jumped out at me: _discreet and exclusive, medically screened, drug free, trained professionals, skilled and highly-educated escorts for social occasions: graduations, class reunions, birthdays, fees refundable if not completely satisfied. Not completely satisfied? _ Oh geez, I was so in over my head and Alice was sooo going to be dead meat for setting this up. I hurriedly refolded the paper and stuffed it back inside the envelope. With a nervous smile, I slowly pushed it back across the table.

Edward smiled and pushed it back. "That's yours to keep. Did you understand everything?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're prostitutes. What's to understand?" Okay, I had to admit even to myself that that was a little rude, but I was extremely uncomfortable with this situation. Maybe if I insulted them, they'd go away and I could go home and enjoy my Hitchcock marathon…_alone_.

Neither of them got angry like I expected. Instead, Edward just sighed softly while Jacob leaned forward in his chair and proceeded to set my rude ass straight, in a very polite and professional manner, of course.

"We're not rent boys turning tricks to feed our drug habit." He smiled to let me know that he wasn't offended by my ignorance, and then continued. "We're here to provide companionship for you for as long or as briefly as you want us tonight. If you want to spend the evening dancing, we'll take you where ever you desire to go, and we'll shake our asses off with you until dawn." He smiled crookedly, which sent my internal heat index straight through the roof. He had the most incredible smile I'd ever seen.

"If you want to go to a bar and drink margaritas until you pass out, we'll be your designated drivers, clean up any mess you make, and even tuck you into bed before we leave."

Ewwww. I was so not doing _that. _ The idea of these two beautiful creatures cleaning up my vomit was completely unacceptable.

"Do you like Alfred Hitchcock?" I blurted out.

They looked at each other with mildly puzzled frowns and then looked back at me, blank-faced. So they weren't classic film connoisseurs, then. "Never mind," I chuckled, waving my hand in the air. "Just a random thought."

Edward took over the explanation. "What Jake is trying to tell you is that we're here to do as little or as much as you want. Leather and Lace is a _full-service_ escort company, but of course you won't find that particular phrase anywhere in that letter." He smiled briefly, and then continued. "But please do not feel that it is mandatory that you experience the _full range_ of our services. That's completely optional and you alone make that choice as the evening progresses."

_OMFG. _ Edward was basically telling me that sex was available if I wanted it…or not. My decision. How could I make a decision like that? I couldn't even choose between two outfits without trying them on a hundred times!

"So, what you're saying is you provide meaningless, no-strings-attached sex if that's what I want."

Edward nodded politely. "Exactly. Or no sex at all if you prefer a completely celibate evening. You won't offend us in any way if you decide to conclude our night together without having sex. This night isn't about us, Bella. It's about _you _and what _you_ want."

I thanked God in Heaven that our food arrived at that moment. We started eating and our conversation turned to safer, more insignificant topics: the quality of the beef used for the steak, the fact that the green beans were rather tasteless. Did I like the champagne? Would I like coffee and a dessert? Safe topics. No three-letter "s" words to be found.

And all the while my mind was racing furiously. What was I going to do with these two men for the rest of the night? My alter ego was screaming _are you crazy? What do you mean 'what are you going to do'? Tell them yes, yes, yes! You want sex, hot meaningless sex, balls-to-the-wall sex! Tell them you just want to screw until the sun comes out tomorrow, like a horny little Orphan Annie!_

The trouble was, my alter ego was nothing but a slut wannabe. She wasn't the real me. The _real_ me had been a virgin until I'd met Mike, and we'd lasted only two short months. And the sex had sucked. Not that I'd been experienced enough to know bad sex when I had it, but at least I should have gotten _some_ enjoyment out of it. I hadn't. No, the _real_ me wasn't a virgin, but she might as well have been.

Dessert was done. The champagne bottle nearly full, since I'd been the only one who'd drank any. The waiter came and cleared away everything. I stared across the table at these two hot guys, silently told my alter ego to just shut the hell up, and then offered the safest suggestion that I could come up with.

"Is there someplace nice we could go dancing?"

Jacob smiled that two-thousand watt smile of his. "As a matter of fact, there's a club not far from here. Leather and Lace employees are VIP members there." He winked. "No waiting in line. Our guests get to go straight in."

I left Bossa Nova with them feeling pretty confident. Dancing was the perfect choice for me. Alice and I had spent many a weekend night dancing by ourselves to a blasting stereo and teaching each other new moves. I was pretty good and felt completely comfortable out on the dance floor. _Dancing is a good idea, Bella. Dancing is harmless, right?_

* * *

><p>The 9:30 Club. Very classy and exclusive. I'd heard of it, but had never been inside. It was way out of my league, pricewise. The drinks probably cost twice more than the shoes I was wearing. Edward gave me a running commentary in my ear as we made our way inside. Basically it was a ginormous restored mansion, with a variety of dance rooms on each of the three floors. Each room played different music and you could drift from room to room according to your mood. It was dimly lit and cozy despite the vastness of the interior. From what I could see, it was filled with people but not so crowded as to feel cramped. Everyone was decked out in trendy suits and classy dresses. This was <em>not<em> the jeans-wearing crowd at the Boot Scootin' Boogie, which was the last dance club I'd actually spent any significant amount of time in (back when I'd learned to line dance.)

We drifted slowly through the rooms to get a feel for the different music that was being played. I heard jazz, disco, swing, hip hop and R & B. One room played only 80's music, while another was strictly 70's guitar rock.

Not only did I hear different music in each of the rooms, but also a different hand found its way to some part of my body as we progressed through the mansion. In one room, Edward's hand came to rest in the small of my back perilously close to my ass, and in another Jacob's hand brushed lightly up my back to my shoulders and then back down. In another room, Edward's fingers brushed my left hand, his touch as soft as a feather, and in still another, Jacob's fingers ran lightly up the inside of my right forearm, from my wrist to my elbow. It was strange that their hands were never on my body at the same time. It was almost like a well-choreographed dance between the two of them-a ballet of subtle touching that left my nerve endings sizzling by the time I found a room I finally wanted to stay in.

The group dancing room. _Yeah!_ I knew it was cheesy, but I couldn't help it. I loved to dance in large groups with everybody being silly and having fun together, good dancers and klutzes alike. Edward and Jacob picked up on my excitement as soon as we walked in the room. We found a tiny table in a dark corner that appeared to be unoccupied. Suit jackets came off and now lay draped across the backs of the tiny chairs.

"I can't do this stuff!" Edward shouted over the music, shaking his head in dismay as he loosened his tie. Jacob apparently could, because he was grinning as much as I was, his eyes glued to the dance floor.

"Anybody can do this stuff!" I shouted into Edward's ear. "Just follow everyone else!"

Well, it turned out that Edward was right. He _couldn't_ do it. He was as uncoordinated as hell, while Jacob looked like a white Michael Jackson out on the floor. The Macarena was a disaster for Edward. His arm movements were about two days behind everyone else's. I enjoyed laughing at him almost as much as I enjoyed watching Jacob swivel his hips along with the song. I had to give Jacob credit-the guy had some major moves going on.

Thankfully, Edward was a good sport about it all. The Electric Slide. Crank That Superman. Two Step. Cotton-Eye Joe. Teach Me How to Dougie. The Cha Cha Slide. He soldiered through them all with both Jacob and I laughing our asses off at his gawkiness.

Finally, we collapsed into the chairs at our tiny table to catch our breath. Edward put his fingers to both temples and shouted, "I'm getting psychic vibes that are telling me you want to go to another room! The R & B room, maybe?"

Jacob laughed and shouted across the tiny table, "Wimp!"

I felt sorry for him, so I agreed. The R & B room sounded perfect: slow dancing and the opportunity to rest.

As we worked our way through the rooms of the mansion, it suddenly occurred to me what I must look like to the people we passed: a lone girl with two men, one on each side. I might as well have stuck a sign on my chest that said: "Make way! Chick with two male hookers, coming through!"

The R & B room was packed. We scooted around the edges looking for a table, but everything was taken, and the dance floor was filled to capacity. I stared longingly at the couples all cuddled up close and swaying to the sounds of Marvin Gaye. Then I suddenly remembered the two guys who were super-glued to my sides. On second thought, it was probably a good thing the room was full. R & B was sex music, and Marvin Gaye was probably listed in the synonym dictionary under the word "fuck".

We emerged out of the crowded room and into the relative quiet of a thickly-carpeted hallway.

"What do you want to do, Bella?" Edward leaned against the wall, but it wasn't an ordinary lean. Guys like Mike did ordinary leans. Not these two. Edward leaned one shoulder against the wall, with one hand tucked into the pocket of his perfectly tailored gray slacks, knee slightly bent. His suit jacket was slung casually over his other shoulder, tie loosened and his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top. He looked like a model straight off the cover of GQ Magazine.

Jacob leaned against the wall beside him, back flat against the wallpaper, one knee bent and foot planted on the wall behind him, blue jacket slung across his shoulder and looking like an Esquire cover-boy gone bad. They were both panty-dropping gorgeous and I was spending waaay too much time looking at them.

Jacob abruptly turned his dark eyes in my direction. "You seemed to like the R & B room. Too bad it was so crowded."

"Yeah, I _did_ like it. It's too bad," I agreed, nodding.

"We could always get a private room," Jacob suggested, with absolutely no change in his expression. I couldn't tell if this was something _he _wanted to do, or something he was suggesting as part of my birthday package. His face was completely neutral.

Edward ceased his beautiful sexy lean against the wall, and came to full attention. Jacob's eyes slid in his direction. Some kind of silent communication was going on between them, and I was totally out of the loop.

"That's up to Bella," he said softly, keeping his eyes focused on Jacob's face for several moments. _What is going on between these two?_

Then Edward turned to me and asked the question I should have been prepared for, if I was actually thinking instead of drooling all over myself. "Would you like to get a private room?"

"Uh, what exactly is a private room?"

I guess Edward could see the direction of my thoughts from the expression on my face. He chuckled softly. "A private _dance_ room. There's no bed, just a table and chairs, fireplace, a wet bar and your own selection of music. It's for people who want a little more privacy than what's offered on a crowded dance floor. But if you're uncomfortable with the idea, we'll do something else. Remember, it's _your_ decision, not ours."

_Oh great. The decision-making thing again. _I was so not good with making important decisions. My slutty alter ego, however, was excellent at it. _Yes, you want privacy, Bella! Are you kidding? No curious eyes, two gorgeous men, sexy music. What's to decide? Say yes, yes, yes! This is your birthday! Live a little!_

I decided to throw my alter ego a bone, so maybe she'd shut up for awhile. "Sure, that sounds nice, but as crowded as it is, are there even any available?"

Jacob stood up and away from the wall. He flashed a grin my way. "Leather and Lace has their own private dance room. It's _always_ available. Let's go."

Jacob extended his hand, and I took it. He entwined his fingers in with mine as he led me through the halls and up the elevator to the third floor. Edward was on my other side, his hand finding a permanent home on the small of my back.

The third floor was very plush and very quiet. We walked down a long hallway until finally stopping at a beautifully carved wooden door. Jacob punched a set of numbers into the keypad above the handle. A soft click and we were in. Our very own private dance room.

Oh hell. This room was not only private, but also very intimate. It was amazing. A polished hardwood floor for dancing; luxurious carpeting along the edges of the room; a small table and chairs in one corner, fireplace and mantle in the other; heavy blue silk drapes covered the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows; a tiny wet bar in another corner with a mirror above it. Dim lights. Even some candles scattered around the room.

Thankfully there was no bed. I felt a little better as I looked around. This wasn't a place where hookers earned their twenty bucks and then checked out. This was comfortable and classy and _way_ too small for the rolling-around-on-the-floor kind of sex. Thank God.

Both guys draped their jackets over the chairs. Jacob headed across the room to the wet bar, his head bent and looking at something I couldn't see. "Hey, they finally put in Thriller!" he exclaimed and then laughed, adding a fist pump at the end. "Yes!"

Edward groaned painfully and dropped into one of the small chairs. "I'm sorry, Bella, but we're going to have to sit through this before we can do anything else."

Before I could ask him what he meant, the sound of Michael Jackson's Thriller took over the small room, and so did Jacob. I sat with my mouth dropped open in stunned amazement as he danced the whole thing perfectly. Even the facial expressions! It was the most incredible and hilarious thing I'd ever experienced. Incredible because Jacob was an extremely good dancer, and hilarious because Edward provided his own humorous commentary about Jacob in my ear while he danced.

"Jake is a Chippendale wannabe," Edward said, laughing softly in my ear. "He can't help himself."

A picture formed in my head, a remnant from one of Alice's wild weekend ideas: Jacob nearly naked, wearing a little black speedo stuffed full of dollar bills, with his tiny black bow-tie collar and white wrist cuffs.

"I think he's adorable and would make a perfect Chippie." I giggled, which made Edward groan again.

"Bella, please. He's bad enough without any encouragement." But I noticed that Edward's remarks were good-natured. These two guys were more than just co-workers. I had a feeling they were very close friends.

Thriller finally ended. A barely out of breath Jacob joined us at the small table, him on my right, Edward on my left.

"Edward was talking about me the whole time, wasn't he?" A small grin played at his lips.

I couldn't help but laugh and confess, despite Edward's playful glare in my direction. "He said you were a Chippendale wannabe."

He jabbed a finger across the table at Edward. "Yeah, well the Chippendales would be lucky to have me. Edward's just jealous because he can't dance," he added, glancing at me.

Edward interrupted and turned to me. "Would you like something to drink? We have a full wet bar, tiny but well-stocked."

"Actually, I'd kill for an ice water, thank you."

"Make that two," Jacob piped in.

Edward got up from the table and returned with three ice waters. Boy, we were sure a partying bunch, rocking down the house with ice water and Michael Jackson.

"Nothing stronger for you guys?" I asked curiously. Neither one had touched the champagne at the restaurant.

"You can have something, but we don't drink while we're working," Edward answered.

"Not even a beer?"

He shook his head and smiled. "No, not even a beer. Drunk guys tend to get obnoxious and act stupid," he added, laughing softly. "That's not what Leather and Lace is all about. Leather and Lace is about treating a woman with tenderness and respect, and also letting _her_ set the tone for the evening." The last line was delivered across the table, his eyes locked onto Jacob's. Something was going on again between these two, some silent conversation that I wasn't privy to.

"So, Jacob is an awesome dancer, what talents do _you_ have, Edward?"

He looked at me strangely, and appeared to be startled by my question. When he finally answered, his voice was soft and hesitant. He seemed reluctant to talk about himself.

"I write music, and some poetry when the mood strikes me." Then he shrugged. "And I play around on the piano some."

Jacob made a loud _what a load of bullshit_ kind of sound. "You're looking at a man who turned down a full-ride music scholarship at Juilliard. He does more than 'play around on the piano some'. When his hands touch those black & whites, grown men cry."

Edward frowned at him and then threw me a small smile. "Jacob's exaggerating. He's never cried, not even _once_."

"That's only because I'm not a grown man yet." He chuckled. "I'm still a kid at heart."

I couldn't help but smile. What a true statement _that_ was. I could already tell that about Jacob Black in just the short time I'd known him.

"Just how old _are_ you, Jacob?" He looked like a kid to me, and seemed to act like one, too. Well, maybe not a kid, but an overgrown teenager couldn't be far off the mark.

He grinned. "I'm 20, and that old man right over there-" He pointed a finger across the table at Edward. "-is 24." Then he winked at me. "I'm plenty old enough, Bella."

_Plenty old enough for what? _I decided I wasn't going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole, so I changed the subject.

"So, what else do you do, Jacob, besides burn up the dance floor?"

He hesitated, looked at Edward for several moments, and then directed his warm brown eyes, _and _his equally reluctant answer, to _me_. "I go to school during the day, and do this at night."

"Oh? What are you studying?" I asked curiously. I'd done a brief stint in college and had quickly realized it wasn't for me. I admired people who had the stick-to-itiveness to graduate with a degree.

Jacob hesitated too long, so Edward eagerly jumped right in to fill the void. "He's studying to be a structural engineer. Our very own Mr. Dancing-With-the-Stars is a closet genius when it comes to math and physics. You should see the Lego monstrosity he's built in his spare bedroom."

He glared at Edward, but there wasn't a bit of anger in it. "See? There you go again. You're ruining my reputation as a handsome and carefree gigolo."

Edward and I both laughed at _that _one. But in my eyes, the fact that Jacob was smart as well as handsome only made him that much more appealing, and the thought of Edward's long, thin fingers moving gracefully across piano keys sent chills down my spine.

"So why did you turn down Juilliard?" I asked, turning back to Edward.

Edward got really quiet. Jacob suddenly took a deep interest in the bottom of his glass. _Uh oh._ I'd evidently touched a nerve.

Without answering, Edward changed the subject. "That's enough about us. Tell us about _you_. What fills up the hours of _your_ day?"

I laughed nervously, embarrassed at the thought of telling these two outrageously talented guys just how humdrum my life really was. "I work in an office. It's rather mundane and monotonous, actually."

No reaction. Both sets of those bedroom eyes, Edward's blue/gray ones and Jacob's dark browns, were focused squarely on me, waiting patiently for me to elaborate.

"I went to college for awhile. That's where I met my best friend, Alice. She's the one who arranged all of this, by the way," I added. "I took Sleeping Late 101 and Partying 102, among other things." I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. I knew I had to sound completely superficial and silly to both of them.

"Damn, I like the sound of your major." Jacob laughed. "Maybe I'm in the wrong field."

"No, you're not in the wrong field. I dropped out after one semester. Truth is guys, I don't know _what _I want to do with my life. I'm sort of in limbo right now. Frankly, I'd rather hear about you two. _My_ life is completely boring."

Edward shook his head and guffawed softly. "Bella, I stare off into space for hours at a time listening to my muse, and Michael Jackson over there plays with little multi-colored plastic blocks in his spare time. Now, _that's_ what's commonly referred to as boring."

We _all_ laughed at that one.

"So, are you in a relationship?" Edward asked out of the blue. I noticed Jacob's eyes dart sharply in his direction. Edward's eyes flicked to his and then slid quickly back to my face. Another silent conversation.

"Uhm…no," I answered without elaborating, wondering which one I should look at, since they were both staring a hole in my face.

"So, you're solo?" Jacob this time.

"Yeah, solo and loving it," I said, trying to insert a little _I am woman, hear me roar_ into my voice and not sure if I was succeeding.

"What did he do wrong?" Jacob asked softly. I glanced at Edward, and he, just like Jacob, was hanging on my every word. "I mean, he couldn't have been the one to do the leaving. Not with a beautiful girl like you."

Edward's eyes shot to Jacob's again. Jacob raised an eyebrow and then turned his attention back to me.

I let the 'beautiful' part slide, because I wasn't sure what to do at this point. I'd always heard to never talk about your exes on a date but, of course, this wasn't an ordinary date. These guys couldn't just up and walk out on me unless I gave the word. So, technically I could bash Mike all night long if I wanted to. Guilt free.

My alter ego rose up with a great silent roar of femi-nazi outrage. _Yeah, tell them what a slob he was, Bella! Tell them how he never took you anywhere nice, or complimented you on your appearance; how he never helped out around the apartment and watched television 24/7; how he never wiped his feet, and would hang out with his buddies for hours, but wouldn't even watch a two-hour romantic movie with you! Tell them how he made fun of everything that gave you pleasure! You tell 'em, girlfriend!_

Instead, I said, "The sex sucked."

_Holy shit. Did that just come out of my mouth?_

Their reaction was immediate. Edward's lips parted just a little, almost like he was about to let his jaw drop open, but then caught himself in time and closed them. Jacob's dark eyes narrowed. He sat back in his chair without taking his eyes off of my face.

"That's just wrong," he said softly. Edward remained strangely silent as Jacob elaborated. "There's no excuse for that shit. A guy like that should be taken out, stood up against a wall and shot."

I laughed because I thought he was making a joke, but neither one of them joined me. OMG, he was serious.

"It's not that big of a deal, Jacob," I said, trying to lighten things up.

"The hell it isn't," he said, his voice low and intense, his eyes dark.

"Jake…" Edward issued a soft command across the table along with a lot of glaring eye contact. They had the silent convo thing going again and I was beginning to wonder if I should just call a halt to this whole thing and just be done with it. It wasn't like we were actually doing any dancing.

Then Edward smiled crookedly in my direction and the mood in the room shifted. He chuckled softly. "You have to overlook him. He has this ridiculous notion that he can save the world one orgasm at a time."

After I got over the shock at hearing the "O" word from those luscious lips, I had to laugh. Edward joined me, and finally Jacob lightened up and laughed, as well.

"Very funny, Edward," Jacob acknowledged snidely, but with a grin. "Actually I have a theory on that. Care to hear it?" He'd directed his question to me.

"Sure." I shrugged and smiled.

Jacob tugged his napkin out from underneath his glass. He asked if I had a pen in my purse, which I did. I dug it out and handed it to him. Our fingers brushed together briefly as he took it. I flushed. He smiled but didn't say anything. Instead he began scribbling on the napkin. When he was finished, he pushed the napkin in my direction. It read:

HQ = (A + S)O  
><span> R  
><span>  
>I stared down at the mathematical formula while he waited for a reaction. I wracked my brain and tried to pull one of those long-lost formulas from algebra class out of the cobwebby recesses they were hiding in. I came up with nothing. I pushed it over to Edward. He looked at it and frowned, glancing over at Jacob with a strange expression on his face.<p>

"I suck at math." Edward chuckled and pushed it back to me.

"So do I." I pushed it the rest of the way back to Jacob.

He shook his head and laughed to himself. "Then let me explain. I have a theory about why so many bad things happen in the world: war, depression, people killing themselves and killing everyone around them. It's because too many people have low Happiness Quotients. That's the 'HQ' part of the equation-the solution."

My _What in the hell are you talking about?_ expression spurred him on. He began to explain his "Happiness Quotient" equation in detail. He scooted in close to the table and grabbed hold of my skeptical eyes with his.

"Okay, this is what I think. Everyone has what I call a "Happiness Quotient". It's a number that represents how content they are with their lives. All these people who commit crimes—rob, kill, beat their wives, et cetera- have verrrry low HQ numbers."

"And that equation is how you arrive at that number?" I wasn't completely dumb. I'd come out of algebra class with a very respectable low "D".

Jacob grinned. "Exactly! Now, let's figure out _your_ HQ number." I didn't even have time to object before he started throwing mathematical questions at me. I glanced over at Edward. He gave me a miniscule shake of his head and a small dismayed smile. Good. He was clueless, too.

"First you take your age, then you add to that how many years you've been sexually active. Got that?"

I nodded as I did the kindergarten calculations in my head. _HQ = (21 + 1) = 22_

"Now, you multiply that answer by the number of orgasms you've had…_with another person_. Double clicking your own mouse doesn't count, by the way," he added, chuckling. I sputtered with laughter. Edward was shaking his head in disbelief, but still added his own quiet laugh to mine. "And if you can't come up with an exact number, just estimate."

This was the easiest math problem I'd ever done. I'd never had an orgasm with another person because Mike was my first and he hadn't cared whether I'd enjoyed it or not. _HQ = 22 x 0 = 0_

"Now, take that answer and divide it by the number of different partners you've had, and you've got your Happiness Quotient."

Number of partners? One. Mike Newton. _HQ = 0 __1 = 0. _My Happiness Quotient was zero.

"So…?" Jacob waited expectantly for my answer. Edward gave me a small _I'm sorry you have to go through this_ smile, similar to the Thriller one of before. I should have smiled back, but instead I wanted to crawl under the table again.

Suddenly I remembered who I was. I was Bella Swan, a twenty-one year old "virgin" whose idea of good sex was, as Jacob had so humorously put it, double-clicking my own mouse. I was way out of my league with these two beautiful, and very _experienced_, men. Jacob was a year younger than me, but that dark-eyed man candy might as well have been ten years _older_. And Edward…Edward with his pale bedroom eyes, his long, slim fingers and those GQ looks was so far out of my league that we weren't even in the same universe, let alone ballpark.

"Bella?" Jacob asked again, waiting for me to provide my HQ number.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Zero," I answered softly, watching for their reaction.

They had the eye thing going again. Edward shot a look at Jacob and Jacob shot one back at him. Jacob blinked a couple of times and then turned to me.

"Could you excuse us for a moment? Edward and I have to go change into our superhero costumes…_immediately_." Then he grinned, all white teeth and those dark laughing eyes.

"Superhero costumes?" I asked, laughing.

"Go ahead and laugh," he said, nodding all smugly. "But the truth is that Edward and I are actually HQ Superheros in disguise. We're raising Happiness Quotients all over the world, one "O" at a time."

Edward was looking at Jacob like he was some lump of alien glob that had dropped out of the sky from Jupiter and he was trying to figure out what it was. I, on the other hand, was trying my darndest not to laugh my ass off right in his sweet, gorgeous face.

"Jacob, I hope that's not your pick-up line, because it's so lame. Seriously, dude." I chuckled. "It's pretty bad."

"Aren't you even curious about our costumes?" he asked, his voice filled with mock pain and hurt feelings.

"I'm sure they're very manly," I said, grinning.

"Mine is all black: black tights, black body suit, except I don't need one of those molded six-packs. Unlike Edward, I like to work out, so I have the real thing. He has to wear one of those plastic things to look buff. Oh and _his_ outfit is pink. Just picture the Pink Panther all buffed out and that's Edward's costume."

Edward shook his head and laughed in dismay. "You see what I have to work with, Bella?"

I looked at both of them and finally figured out what was going on. These two were good. They had this _Let's make the nervous client feel comfortable_ routine down pat. I wondered how many women they'd laid that superhero story on.

"This is a really smooth operation two have got going on. You're good." I smiled, shaking my head at how wet behind the ears I really was, and how non-operational my bullshit detector was.

Edward frowned. "I assure you that tonight is the first time I've ever heard of a Happiness Quotient. He pulls this kind of nonsense out of his ass all the time."

I glanced at Jacob and he was grinning mischievously. Yeah, I could see how Jacob was most likely full up to his eyeballs with bullshit, and right now he was completely adorable, completely gorgeous, and sexy as hell.

"Do you really think I'd willingly be a part of anything that had me wearing pink tights and a pink body suit?" Edward laughed softly.

His pale eyes settled on mine. We stared at each other for a few moments, and then he smiled. He wasn't smiling at Jacob, or in response to some comment that had been made. No. Edward Cullen was smiling at _me._ Bella Swan. At that very moment, I finally understood what all the fuss about global warming was about, because Edward Cullen had just set my whole world on fire with those eyes and that smile.

Edward. "What Jacob is trying to tell you is that we can fix this."

OMG. My hooha went haywire at just the sound of his soft, velvet voice.

Jacob. "We can raise your HQ number _substantially_…tonight. If you'll let us."

Edward. "It's what we do. It's what we're good at."

Jacob smiled and winked. "One orgasm at a time…"

My eyes were bouncing back and forth between them. I felt like a bewildered spectator at a pornographic tennis match.

"Is there a bathroom in here?" I had to get away from these two and their mesmerizing bedroom eyes so I could clear my head and think.

Edward nodded his head toward a corner of the small room. "Over there." As I got up from the table, Edward raised his eyes to mine. "Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere."

Three long strides and I was safe inside the tiny bathroom. Door locked, faucet turned on full blast, not only to cover up the sound of me peeing, but also to keep them from hearing me in case I suddenly got the urge to have a very loud nervous breakdown. I looked into the mirror and wondered what these two men could possibly see in me. My alter ego provided the answer. _She_ always had the answers to everything.

_They think you're hot, Bella! Neither one of them have been able to keep their eyes off of you all night. They feel you up every chance they get. They've been flirting their asses off since the beginning. You're fucking turning them on, so just stop with the doubts and get back out there!_

"They're paid to do this, you idiot!" I hissed softly back at my alter ego. "Of course, I'm the most beautiful girl in the world because their pockets are full of Alice's money."

_These men don't care about the money. Look at them, Bella! They're fucking-ass beautiful. They're doing this because they LIKE it. They're Grade A Number One Prime studs in heat, girl. Get back out there and ride their horny asses until they collapse from exhaustion!_

"I don't have sex with strange men," I told myself. "I was raised to be a good girl, not a slut. I don't do stuff like this. It's not right."

_Geez…they're not strange men. You've known them long enough. It's not as if you stopped your car alongside them on the street and told them to hop in. They're nice, they're hot and you KNOW it. Get out there, RIGHT NOW and start swinging from those flag poles. Live a little! You're twenty-one, for shit's sake!_

"Unprotected sex is stupid. It's crazy. I don't know anything about these two men," I argued softly at myself in the mirror.

_Uh…ever heard of condoms? Edward probably has another envelope in that suit filled to the brim with prophylactics. And remember 'Medically screened and drug free'? These guys are safe, Bella. Good, clean, disease-free sex with no strings attached. I can't believe you're in here arguing with ME when you could be out there getting your oil changed by two of the hottest mechanics you're ever laid eyes on!_

"Oh god…" I whined softly. I was caving. My alter ego was a strong bitch when she wanted to be. She was wearing me down fast.

_Bella, you know you want this. This is the best birthday present anyone has ever given you. You want it. You're so curious about them. Admit it! You want to see both of them naked. You want both of their cocks buried deep inside of you. You want them-one at a time, both at the same time. You want to fuck them both, Bella._

"Oh god, you are such a slut!" I hissed at my alter ego. She was also right. I wanted both of them, bad. My panties were already soaked and plastered to my body. I growled softly and shimmied them off. They plopped on the floor and I kicked them into the corner.

_Hahahahaha! You go, girl! Now that's what I'm talking about! One of those boys is going to get the surprise of his life when his fingers hit that naked pussy._

I ignored my vulgar-mouthed alter ego, and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair looked good, a little mussed but that was how I wore it. The slight bit of makeup I'd applied was still intact. Eyeliner? Good. Mascara? No smudges. Lipstick? Gone. I dug out my stick and swiped a couple of times across both lips, popped them together and I was good to go.

"I'm just going to treat this as a business thing. They've been hired to entertain me, so I'm going to let them. It's just business, Bella. Just business. Let them do what they're good at, so they'll walk away tonight with some job satisfaction. Then go home and get on with your life."

_That's my girl…_

I smiled at the mirror.

"Meaningless sex. That's all this is…"

* * *

><p><strong>EDWARD…<strong>

As soon as Bella locked the bathroom door behind her, I turned on Jake. "Well, this evening is turning out to be one big clusterfuck." I practically hissed at him across the table like a pissed off snake.

He chuckled softly. "Not yet, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed."

"How many rules have you broken, Jake?"

He flashed his dark eyes at me as his temper started to rise. "You started this, Edward. You were fondling her ass almost as soon as we walked in the door. So don't be blaming me."

"I wasn't fondling her ass. It was a gentleman's hand to the small of the back."

"Sure, sure." Jake laughed softly. "Her ass is awfully high up on her back then. Just sayin'…"

"You should have _never_ suggested this room. That was way out of line. She wouldn't have even thought of this if you hadn't brought it up. You broke Rule #1 with that one: the client calls all the shots, or as _you_ call it, Chicks Before Dicks. Remember that little rule?"

Jacob leaned in and glared at me. "Stop with the bullshit blame game. We both fucked this one up. We're both to blame, okay? Both of us."

He was right, and I hated it when Jacob Black was right. I'd started it all with my wandering hand, and he'd just followed my lead. I'd been doing this gig a lot longer than he had and for some reason, I'd fucked this one up royally.

"Edward, come on. Don't beat yourself up. She's different," he said. "She's sweet, innocent. How long has it been since we've had a client like her? _That's _why we're so fucked up. We _want_ her, man. This one's not just a job, and you know it. Bella's one of the good girls and we have to do this thing right, and it's going to take both of us working together to do that. We don't need to be jumping in each other's shit right now."

"We may have overplayed our hand, though. I think we scared her off," I said.

Jacob grinned that cocky-ass grin of his. "I don't think so. She wants us as much as we want her. She's just a little shy. Shy girls take a little more work, but they're worth it." He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

And of course, he was right again. She'd been sending off signals all night, even though I was sure she wasn't aware of doing it. She wasn't a slut, not even close. The girl was just so damned beautiful. It was hard for me to imagine a guy not caring enough about her to satisfy her in bed. So, if Bella came out of that bathroom wanting sex, then Jacob and I were going to do our jobs and then some. We'd deliver the goods. If she wanted things to end right here, then we'd drag our blue balls home and spend the night getting to know ourselves better.

At that moment, the door to the bathroom opened. Both of us silently watched her walk across the small room and take her seat next to us.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She smiled in response to my question, such a beautiful, sincere smile. Jake was right. Bella was different, and because of that she was going to get more than her friend had paid for. That is, if she'd let us.

"I'm fine, Edward. Actually, I think I'd like to dance." She turned to Jacob. "Do you have any Marvin Gaye in this place?"

Jacob smiled. "I'm sure we do." He crossed the room to the sound system. "Any special song?" he asked over his shoulder.

Bella looked back at me. Her warm cocoa eyes were so sultry. She'd applied fresh lipstick and all I wanted to do was just suck every bit of it off her mouth. This girl was seriously shorting out every one of my male circuits and she wasn't even trying.

"Sexual Healing," she answered softly.

_Oh fuuuuck…_ My cock punched hard against my slacks. I fought the groan that was trying to come up out of my throat.

Jacob returned to the table. Their eyes met. "Nice song," he said quietly. "Appropriate. I set it to loop."

Jacob had his bad-boy smolder going, a skill I'd never been able to master. I was too pale to pull it off. He could get a woman's panties off with that look faster than I could blink. I had a feeling that Bella's were most likely soaked completely through by now, and just that thought alone sent another surge of blood straight to my cock.

But to my surprise, she turned back to me.

"Would you like to dance, Edward?"

I glanced at Jacob. He winked and gave me an infinitesimal nod. He was going to let me go first for once.

"I'd love to."


	2. Chapter 2: Sexual Healing

**Chapter 2: Sexual Healing**

**Author's Note: **I would recommend getting on YouTube and playing Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing" very softly in the background while you read this chapter. (It's the song that inspired it.) A big thank you to those who have taken the trouble to leave me a review. It's much appreciated! (Oh, and sorry about the cliffhanger. Eh, who am I fooling? I'm not sorry at all. hehe )

* * *

><p><strong>BELLA…<strong>

Like a perfect gentleman, Edward elegantly unfolded his tall frame from the table and offered me his hand. I wasn't used to a guy with manners, so it took me a few seconds to catch on.

I stood up slowly, keeping my eyes on his face the entire time. He guided me a few steps into the middle of the room with those long fingers clinging to mine. His hand was warm, but dry. No sweaty palm, which meant he wasn't the least bit nervous, unlike me. But of course, he wouldn't be. God only knew how many times he'd done this.

He turned our bodies so that his back was to the table and I was facing Jacob. I took a quick peek around Edward's arm and saw Jacob staring straight at us. A small, enigmatic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He winked and then downed his glass of ice water, while still keeping those dark eyes trained on me. I gave him a tiny smile in return and then turned my attention back to Edward. He still held my hand in his, but had now added his other arm around my waist.

_Come take control, just grab a hold_

_Of my body and mind, soon we'll be making it, honey_

_I'll be feeling fine…_

The muted sounds of Marvin Gaye's _Sexual Healing_ filtered into the room through hidden speakers. Nearly half of the song was over by the time Edward and I started dancing, if you could call what we were currently doing dancing. Edward couldn't dance and we both knew it, but he could sway with the best of them. And he could smolder like nobody's business.

My left hand was resting on his shoulder, not touching skin, but even through the thin fabric of his dress shirt, I could feel the heat of his body radiating against my palm. I looked up to find his pale eyes fixed on me. Chills ran down my back as those blue-grays swept slowly across my face. It was a very intimate examination performed with the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. He touched my skin with them, caressed my lips, and dove straight into my soul with them, when they finally settled on mine.

_Who the hell cares about his eyes or how hot his damned skin is? _ _What about his cock, girlfriend? That's what we want to know about. You need to get into UPS mode and start feeling up that package. We need numbers, Bella. We need specific dimensions. We need to know what "Brown can do for you" and right-fucking-now!_

Leave it to my inner skank to ruin a perfectly beautiful moment. But I had to shamefully admit to myself that I was intensely curious about just that very thing. The problem with that was that Edward was keeping his package to himself. By this point, Mike's cock would have been punching a hole completely through my stomach and into the next continent, but not Edward's. We could have fit the Grand Canyon inside the distance between his groin and my lower stomach, not that I was looking, but I was painfully aware of every inch of this man's body and exactly how far away it was from mine.

Suddenly, he dropped my hand and cupped my face with his palm. "You're beautiful," he murmured softly. His long fingers lightly swept across my cheek. His thumb made a slow pass over my bottom lip. _Oh God._ From the feel of things in my hooha, I probably shouldn't have dumped my panties on the bathroom floor. My love juices had nowhere to go now but down my thighs.

"You're beautiful too, Edward."

A combination frown and smile appeared on his face, as if he found it hard to believe that he was the most gorgeous chunk of man-flesh to ever walk the earth. Surely women had told him that before?

He very slowly bent his face down to mine. _Oh damn, he's going to kiss me._ But he didn't. Instead, he brushed his lips against my cheek, and then touched them lightly to my nose. I let out a soft, breathless little chuckle when he gently kissed one of my eyes, causing me to furiously bat my eyelashes. Finally, he slid his mouth down to mine, and he just hovered there. His nose lay lightly against the side of mine. His warm breaths caressed my lips as I anxiously waited for him to close the tiny distance between us. I wondered in those few frozen moments what kind of kisser he would turn out to be. Would he devour my mouth like a sex-starved maniac? Or try to clean my tonsils with his tongue, like Mike used to do?

_Relax honey, and get ready, 'cause it's going to be good. Real good. He's a professional. A place like Leather and Lace hires men with multi-functional body parts. I guarantee you that man can eat, drink, kiss and even fuck with that mouth of his. Get ready, girlfriend…_

I had to let go of that thought pretty quickly, because Edward finally closed the distance, and touched his lips to mine—a very gentle series of soft, fleeting, dry kisses that could almost be called chaste, if it weren't for the fact that my nipples were now hard and tingling and there was a definite ache between my legs.

He pulled back and swept those eyes over my face again. His hand was now underneath my hair, his thumb rubbing lightly against the skin of my neck. I shyly averted my eyes downward, but his other hand gently tugged at my chin until I was looking up at him again.

Then he kissed me some more—a _lot_ more—until I began to make these little moans inside his mouth. I'd never in my life made those kinds of noises before, but they poured out of me uncontrollably as he tenderly played with my lips, sucking on them gently, then kissing them, lightly running his tongue along the inside of them and then kissing them some more. In fact, I was so wrapped up in that amazing kissing that I didn't even notice that Jacob was behind me until I felt another set of hands on my body.

I gasped softly, and abruptly pulled away from Edward.

"It's just Jake," he murmured. "If that's okay with you."

I nodded silently. Then Jacob's hands slid onto my waist. He nudged me around until I was facing _him_ now instead of Edward.

"Edward's right, Bella. You're incredibly beautiful."

I frowned, despite myself. The compliments were starting to make me feel uncomfortable_. Alice_ was beautiful. I was mousy at best.

Jacob lightly ran a single finger across my forehead, right above my eyebrows. "No room for frowning in the HQ formula," he said, his voice a low sensual hum that sent waves of the sweetest music straight down to my center. Then he smiled that cocky smile of his that was so endearing. "It messes up the numbers."

Before I could respond, he kissed me, and there were none of the gentle, tender kisses that Edward had given me. No. Jacob jumped right in with both lips and started right in with the kind of kissing that made you want to grab the first available thing with a cock, throw it down on the floor and then fuck it. At least that's how _I_ felt as his mouth fused to mine, as his tongue slid slowly between my lips and touched mine.

_Woohoo! We got ourselves a tongue-man, Bella! _

Jacob knew how to handle his tongue, I had to give him that. This was not a Mike Newton spit-swapping session. This was skill. This was finesse with a capital F. What Edward had just done with his lips, Jacob now did with his tongue. He swiped it lightly across the outside of my bottom and top lip, and then sucked them gently. He slid it _underneath_ my top lip, and tickled my teeth with it. He did this over and over again until these tiny whimpers began to pour into his mouth from mine.

I'd completely forgotten about Edward while all this was going on, until I became aware of the zipper on the back of my dress being slowly pulled down. He tugged it a couple of inches and then his fingers brushed against my skin. Then a couple of inches more, and his whole hand pressed against my back like a hot iron sizzling against a cotton shirt. Then, the last remaining inches of my zipper were loosed and both of his hands slid inside my dress. I closed my eyes and couldn't stop the moan that came out of me as his fingers traveled lightly up and down my back.

"Open for me," Jacob whispered against my mouth. I'd become so distracted by Edward's hands that I'd lost my focus with Jacob. I did as he asked and parted my lips, and that's when the deep tongue-kissing began. Every slow thrust of his tongue into my mouth was answered with a throb between my legs. I'd never been kissed like Jacob was kissing me now. The guy was making love to my mouth with his tongue. That was the only description I could come up with in the fog of lust that was quickly enveloping me.

"Oh god," I whimpered softly when Jacob pulled away from my mouth and came up for some much needed air.

"You like that?" he murmured as he laid a trail of feather kisses along the edges of my mouth with those full and luscious lips.

All I could do was nod. And then it started again: the slow sensual swipes of his tongue across my lips, underneath my lips and then the deep rhythmic thrusts into my mouth.

Then I became aware of Edward's hands moving around inside my dress. His fingers slid like silk around my waist and came to rest on my stomach. My dress was a little looser with the zipper undone, which gave him plenty of room to maneuver. His fingers inched up my stomach until they came to a stop just underneath my breasts.

Then, too many things happened all at once. It was almost too much stimulation for one inexperienced girl to handle at one time. Edward's palms cupped my breasts and squeezed gently at the exact moment he pressed his entire body up against the back of mine, at the exact moment one of Jacob's hands slid underneath the hem of my dress and brushed up my outer thigh, at the exact moment I felt Edward's arousal rubbing against one side of my ass, at the exact moment Jacob brushed his own arousal against the front of my groin, at the exact moment Edward murmured a soft "Oh fuck, Bella" in my ear, at the exact moment I heard the first beautiful groan slide out of Jacob's throat, and all this happened while Jacob continued to slow-fuck my mouth with his tongue.

_And when I get that feeling_

_I want sexual healing_

_Sexual healing is good for me_

_Makes me feel so fine, it's such a rush_

_Helps to relieve the mind, and it's good for us_

I had no idea how many times Marvin Gaye had already sung those lines. I'd lost track of the music a long time ago, but _damn_, those lyrics were so appropriate at that very moment! Edward was rhythmically rubbing his cock into one side of my ass, and Jacob's palm was traveling in slow circles on the other side, exploring all of my nooks and crannies, with the exception of the big one between my thighs. All kinds of sexually healing sensations were flooding my nerve endings and I could _so_ identify with Marvin's crooning.

"No panties." Jacob's soft pronouncement wasn't meant for me, of course. I already knew that. Within seconds of that statement though, Edward removed his hands from my dress and tugged my body around to face _him. _

I looked up into his eyes and my sex clenched tight like a fist slamming between my legs. His pale eyes had darkened slightly and were now hooded and filled with lust. I wondered if mine looked the same to him.

This time around, Edward's kisses were more intense, and what do you know, the Grand Canyon was gone. Our bodies were melded together as if we'd been born that way, like a set of Siamese twins joined at our sex organs. We half-assed swayed to the music, but in actuality we were both listening to a different song inside our heads. We were moving to the instinctual rhythm of sex. His hips ground into my lower stomach, and I suddenly wished I weren't so damned short, or he wasn't so damned tall. I wanted that rock hard cock rubbing against my mound instead of my belly button.

Hands were all over me now. In the fog of arousal that surrounded me, I began to lose track of whose fingers were touching what, whose mouth was kissing where, and whose moans were coming out of which throat. It was hard to concentrate on just one area of my body. No sooner would I identify Jacob's hands on my breasts with his palms brushing over my hard peaks then I'd suddenly feel Edward's hand underneath my dress and stroking my thigh, or Jacob would be trailing kisses down my neck, then I'd feel Edward gently squeezing my breasts through the fabric of my dress, or Edward's hands would slide up and down my sides, and then Jacob would rub both of his hands all over my ass underneath my dress.

But the one constant, the one thing I could always identify in the confusing miasma of touching and kissing was whose cock was rubbing against me and where. My inner slut purred with satisfaction as I made mental notes of size and dimensions, and there was a definite difference in these two packages. I was to the point now, where you could blindfold me and put me in a dark room and have one of them rub their cock against my thigh and I'd be able to identify who it belonged to.

_Welcome to the show, Bella! Let's plaaaay…."Name that Cock"! _

Edward was what Alice and I jokingly referred to as "a towering Sequoia": tall and as hard as petrified wood, the kind of cock that could soar upwards into the sky and punch holes in the clouds. But what Edward was rubbing across and pushing into my stomach was nothing to joke about. He had some serious cock-action punching against his dark gray slacks, and my hooha was loving every single inch of it.

Jacob, on the other hand, was no towering Sequoia like Edward, but he felt thick through his linen pants, thick like the business end of a wooden baseball bat—very round and very hard—a cock with enough thickness and breadth to send my sex flying over the fence like a home run. And no matter where their hands or their mouths ended up, their cocks were a constant push against my body.

One disturbing thing I'd noticed, though, was that both of them had touched and kissed me everywhere except for one place. During all of this "dancing" we'd been doing, neither one of them had ventured south with their fingers to explore the area between my thighs, and I hadn't touched either one of them either.

_What is this? Some sort of "Soccer Sex" where no one's allowed to touch the ball with their hands? Fuck that! We need some finger action, Bella! We need some hands on that pussy NOW!_

In fact, I was saturated and aching. My sex was throbbing between my legs to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I wanted…no, I _needed_…one of them to touch me, or both of them. It didn't matter at this point. I needed it like I needed oxygen to breathe.

"Touch me. God please, touch me," I whispered softly into the sex-heated space surrounding the three of us.

It was Edward who heard the desperation in my voice and obeyed my soft plea. He moaned my name and then slid his hands down the sides of my dress until they reached my upper thighs. I felt him bunching up my dress into his fists until it was up high enough for him to get underneath. When it was, he and Jacob both pushed my dress completely up and over my thighs, hips and ass, until the bottom half of it was crumpled up in a circle around my waist, leaving me exposed from the waist down.

Then Edward stepped back from me a little and I lost contact with his body. Before I could protest his absence, his hands began to move slowly over my outer thighs—up and down, and all around. Jacob was doing the same thing with his palms and my ass. The pulsing ache down my center was becoming nearly unbearable with each pass of their hands. I wanted to scream at them to just get on with it! This teasing was killing me! I was on the verge of grabbing Edward's hand and stuffing it into my crotch when he finally made his move. Perhaps the desperate whimpers coming out of me gave him a clue that I was on the verge of having a sexual homicidal breakdown.

His fingers slid across my lower stomach, across my pubic hair and down into my dripping wet center. Edward moaned softly when his fingers left hair and met bare skin. "A partial Brazilian."

Again, another announcement meant for Jacob, instead of me, since I already knew the follicle status of my hooha. Alice had pestered the hell out of me to go with her to get a Brazilian, and when Alice set her mind to something, there was no denying her. We'd ended up on two tables, side-by-side, while a strange woman had waxed our snatches nearly bare. At the last minute, Alice had decided we should add a little artistic flair to our nearly bare mounds.

"A landing strip?" Jacob asked softly from behind, referring to the narrow row of pubic hair left behind with a normal partial Brazilian. But a boring strip of hair had been insufficient to satisfy Alice's inner artistic slut. (Yes, she has one, too.) We'd gone the more adventurous route.

"A heart," I murmured in answer.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Jacob breathed in my ear. "I need to see that."

"Later." That quiet, one-word command from Edward sent shock waves through my body. _He_ was in the driver's seat now and wasn't about to give way to Jacob, and that was fine by me.

His fingers twitched, signaling me to open myself to him. I adjusted my stance to allow his hand room to move. That was when he began to make light passes between my legs with his palm. His fingers barely touched my skin with each backward and forward stroke. Again, the man was deliberately teasing me, refusing me what my body craved. I wanted more than these light, feathery touches all over my folds with the tips of his fingers. I wanted them inside of me. Deep. I wanted him to press his thumb down hard on that nub of skin that was throbbing like a toothache. I needed the pressure of his hand rubbing hard against me until he felt the bone from underneath come up to meet him.

"Edward, please…" I moaned softly and pulsed my hips against his hand. "Please…"

"_Fuck_…give it to her," Jacob gasped softly behind me. Jacob was pushing his cock hard into my ass and moving it around in perfect rhythm with Edward's hand. His breathing in my ear was rapid and shallow, interspersed with soft moans.

Edward cupped my face in one of his hands and gave me a very intense kiss. He pulled back and stared down into my eyes, a lusty deep blue stare, as his finger slid inside of me. My eyes snapped shut and the most vulgar thing I'd ever said aloud to another man slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Oh, fuuuuuck meeee."

Edward took that as an order and proceeded to do just that. His hand moved in a steady, predictable rhythm: first a light brush of the fingers all the way from front to back, and then a return to the middle to plunge his long fingers deep inside of me, and then finally a stop at the very front where he rubbed his thumb in hard circles over my clit. Then he did it all again. And again. And again. And again…

_Baby, I can't stand it much longer_

_It's getting stronger and stronger_

And damned if Marvin didn't know what he was talking about. My climax was building, slowing growing with each pass, thrust and rub of Edward's long and luscious fingers. Without even thinking about it, my hips began to move in concert with his hand, and Jacob's hips moved in concert with mine and we suddenly became a trio of beautiful sensual movement.

_What did I tell you? Multi-functional body parts! You've got yourself a man with ten miniature penises, Bella! Five of those fuckers on each of his big, beautiful hands!  
><em>

My inner slut was rejoicing, and we weren't even having real sex yet.

"Jake…" Another one-word whispered command from Edward had me wondering what was in store for me now.

From behind, Jacob slid his fingers between my legs. "God, you feel so good," he moaned breathlessly.

Then Edward moved his hand out of Jacob's way, bringing it to the front where he could focus solely on rubbing his fingers hard over my clit. Jacob, in the meantime, took over with his own set of miniature penises, stroking me and then delving deep inside me with his fingers.

"That's what I'll feel like inside of you," he murmured into my ear, as he stretched my opening with three of his fingers and then plunged inside. My only response was to moan. Forming words was too much trouble.

_The love you give to me will free me_

_If you don't know the thing you're dealing_

_Ohh, I can tell you darling, that it's sexual healing_

Then, through an untold number of Marvin Gaye replays, Jacob and Edward's hands moved me closer and closer to the end. After awhile, they started to alternate with the finger-fucking. Edward would wet his fingers and then rub them hard over my clit, while Jacob pumped his fingers inside of me from behind, and rubbed his cock hard against my ass. Then Jacob would pull out, allowing Edward to slide his long fingers in for two or three hard and deep thrusts, and then Edward would be back at my clit again, and I'd feel Jacob's thick fingers pumping inside of me.

I lost track of time, space and even sound as my orgasm went from a slow burn and moved into the wildfire category. I was pumping and thrusting my hips against their hands, their fingers, and Jacob's cock. Edward's was conspicuously absent, since his arm and hand were wedged between our bodies. Damn it all. I wouldn't have minded feeling that long hard length of him pushing into my stomach and to the next continent.

And then everything started to change. The room started to fade into the background. My central focus was between my legs. Fingers. Hands. Cocks. That was all that existed in my world at that very moment. And heat. I suddenly felt very flushed sandwiched in between two men who were throwing off sexual heat like a radiator with a broken shut-off valve.

"Shit, you're so hot." Jacob moaned behind me. "She's so fucking hot. It's coming. Oh fuck, she's coming."

"Yes. Come on." Edward added his own soft, velvety moans to Jacob's as his fingers kept up their hard rhythm between my legs. His breathy whisper was the last identifiable sound I heard before everything exploded in wet, hot waves.

My sex clamped down tight and hard on whoever's fingers were currently inside of me. Somebody was screaming. _Fuck, is that me? _ It _was_ me, and I couldn't stop it as the hot contractions continued and pleasure shot out from my center to all parts of my body.

"_Shit!"_ A harsh, guttural exclamation from behind me filtered in through the haze of my orgasm. My back felt cold and strangely empty all of a sudden. Jacob was gone.

Edward's fingers slid inside me as the last remnants of my orgasm quivered along the lining of my sex. I looked up at him, and his eyes were tightly closed. By the look on his face, he was enjoying the last echoes of my climax. I suddenly wondered if he was having an orgasm of his own, but then his pale eyes flipped open and latched onto mine. He must have felt me staring up at him.

He smiled and then sighed. "Jesus, Bella. That was good."

"Did you…?" I left the sentence unfinished, hoping he'd get my meaning.

He grinned crookedly and my heart melted all over the floor. "No, but almost is almost as good."

He tenderly pulled my dressed back down around my hips, and then he traced the contours of my face with his finger, from my forehead, down the side along my temple, across my cheek, and finally to my mouth. His index finger stopped at the corner of my mouth before making a slow pass across my bottom lip.

Then he removed his index finger from my face and slid it into his own mouth, all the while watching my face for a reaction. OMG. My center clenched hard. Edward was tasting me; his fingers were coated with my juices and he was tasting me.

Then he offered me another one of his fingers, and I allowed him to slide it into my mouth. The flavor on his fingers wasn't at all unpleasant. It didn't taste like a Tootsie Pop, but it wasn't stomach-churning either. It was me. Bella Swan. My sexual essence was all over his hand, and instead of being grossed out, this act of mutual tasting felt like the most intimate thing I'd ever done with a man.

I sighed, and laid my head against his chest. He gathered me into his arms and held me gently. I noticed that his erection was mostly gone, which saddened me. I suddenly wanted tonight to not just be about me. I wanted to please _both_ of these men. Which reminded me…

"Where is Jacob?" I asked.

I felt the soft laughter in his throat. "In the bathroom doing the male version of double-clicking his mouse."

I immediately started channeling Paris Hilton and hit the play button on my internal porno projector. Images from that tiny bathroom flashed on the screen inside my head, narration provided by my slutty alter ego, of course.

_Picture it, Bella. Jacob's leaning his tight ass back against that tiny sink. His navy blue slacks are pushed down past his thighs. His underwear, boxers or briefs? Who the hell cares?! The point is that whatever they are, they're pushed down there right with his pants, leaving his cock completely exposed. Wonder if he's tan or if he has farmer's groin? His beautiful tanned hand, covered in your love juices, is wrapped tight around that thick cock of his. He's pumping himself slowly. Or maybe fast, considering how far gone he was when he left. Maybe his other hand is on his balls, kneading them like bread dough as he gets closer and closer. His eyes are closed tight, his head thrown back on his shoulders, mouth open slightly. His muscular chest is heaving with the exertion of jacking off, beads of sweat on his forehead. What you wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall, huh Bella? Wouldn't you love to see his O-face when he finally lets loose with his load? Wouldn't you love to see him cum? Hear his groans, his panting, his beautiful vulgar curses?_

"Is that something you'd like to see?" Edward's voice interrupted the film rolling inside my brain. "We could arrange that, if that's something you'd enjoy."

I looked up at him and blushed. I actually blushed! After what we'd just done, my body somehow found the whole idea of watching one of these men masturbate in front of me to be embarrassing enough to send a rush of blood to my face. I buried my face in his chest and mumbled something unintelligible. It was actually an 'I don't know', but he probably didn't catch it.

"It's all right. No pressure. You can think about it and let us know," he said quietly. "Or not. Your choice."

We swayed together to the music for a few moments before I heard the door to the bathroom open and shut. A few seconds later my back was once again inundated with the heat of Jacob's body. This time, I turned around in Edward's arms on my own, so that I could look at Jacob for awhile. Edward and I had had our afterglow time, now it was Jacob's turn.

"You okay?" I asked him.

"Oh, I'm fine," he said, grinning now. Edward was playing with my hair, moving it off my neck and delivering soft kisses to my skin.

"Double-clicking your mouse, were you?" I asked, sporting my own sly grin.

Jacob laughed and kissed me gently on the lips. "Men don't double-click their mouse, babe. That's a girl thing. Guys scroll their toolbars."

Edward chuckled softly behind me as we continued to sway to the music, three of us now, instead of the previous two.

"Toolbars, huh?" I snickered. "Tell me, does your toolbar have a font size and color?" For some reason, Jacob brought out the playful side of me, which I kept hidden way too much, according to Alice.

He grinned and slid his arms around my waist. I felt Edward shift his body behind me just enough to make room. "Size? Thick. And color? Dark," he answered with his sexy bedroom voice.

I raised my eyebrows and giggled. "Oooh, sounds mysterious."

"Edward's is long…and pink." Jacob's white toothy grin took over his face as I heard Edward's good-natured laugh behind me.

"I prefer the word "pale"," Edward said. "Pink sounds girly, and my toolbar is _not _girly."

"You're telling me," Jacob muttered and then snickered.

We spent the next several minutes, or hours, or days—I truly had no idea—kissing tenderly, touching softly, and occasionally saying a word or two to each other.

"Oh, by the way…" Jacob said suddenly. "You may want to just trash your panties. I sort of messed them up."

_Oh my fucking god! He found your panties in the corner and he FUCKING CAME in them! HOT DAMN! Trash them? NO FUCKING WAY! We're taking those babies home and framing their ass! No man has ever used your panties as cream-catchers before! _

"Uh…" Despite the ranting inside my head, I was at a loss for words.

"Sorry," he murmured quietly as his lips touched mine. "I hope they weren't your favorites or anything, but they sure felt nice, and smelled nice too."

Jacob smiled sweetly at me and I smiled sweetly back. I didn't need another trip to the bathroom, or another argument with my slutty side, to know what I wanted to do with the rest of the night.

"Jacob, does Leather and Lace have its own apartment with a bed? A very _large_ bed?" I asked. "Big enough for three?"

He grinned and looked over my shoulder at Edward. "You bet your beautiful ass it does."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Edward's body was tense behind me, and Jacob was staring me down with his dark eyes.

"Take me there. Now."

_Get up, get up, get up, get up_

_Let's make love tonight_

_Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up_

_Cause you do it right_


	3. Chapter 3: Focus

**Chapter 3: Focus**

_**EDWARD…**_

"You're driving."

"What?" Jake's head snapped up and he frowned.

"You heard me. You're driving. Bella and I have the back seat," I said, letting him know that the decision wasn't up for a vote.

"Fuck that!" he snapped. "_You_ should drive!"

"Will you lower your voice?" I hissed at him. Bella was just a few feet away in the bathroom freshening up.

"Edward." Jake moved closer to me and dropped his voice. "In case you've forgotten, I've already chucked one off in the bathroom and you haven't. You're in no shape for the back seat."

I laughed quietly. "I've been cock-blocked in this job more times than I can count, and you know it. I can deal." I pulled the car key out of my pocket and tossed it in his direction. "By the way, you need to work on your control…_puppy_. You didn't even make it to one."

He scowled at being reminded of his youth and inexperience. Male employees of Leather and Lace were highly "encouraged" to practice until they could hold back their own orgasms at least three times. The highest paid escorts could hold out longer than that. Jake hated that he could only manage two, and I regularly had no problems with three. The key was keeping an emotional distance from your client, which was something Jake was incapable of doing. He simply loved his job too much. I didn't have that problem.

Of course, following the rules to the letter made it easier to ignore all of the emotional bullshit and just get the job done. We'd gotten off-track on this one from the very beginning and I intended to get us _back_ on track. I made good use of Bella's time in the bathroom and pulled myself back from the cliff's edge.

_This is just a job, Edward. Stick to your training and go by the book. _ Getting emotionally involved with a client was a pink slip waiting to happen. I'd fallen into that trap only once, but it had been enough to teach me a hard lesson. You had to keep a wall of steel between you and your clients if you wanted to survive in this business and keep the money rolling in.

_'Do unto others at least three times before you let them do unto you'. _How many times had he heard that twisted sexual version of the Golden Rule in the four years he'd worked for Leather and Lace? An escort's pleasure was secondary, and suffering from premature ejaculation was akin to having terminal cancer. You might as well hang your cock 'n' balls on the hook by the office door and get your useless ass out. No client wanted to pay the astronomical fees we charged for a man who shot his wad as fast as a husband or boyfriend. We were paid to be exceptional and that was what we were going to be. _Ignore the surges. No feelings allowed, Edward. Focus on the job, not your cock._

Jake interrupted my silent pep-talk. "How long has it been since that's happened to me? It's Bella. She's innocent and damn, but that is fucking sexy and you know it," he insisted grudgingly.

I couldn't disagree, but that didn't change the fact that we were trained to be a lot more professional than we'd been so far. This emotional shit was over, starting now.

"Both of us are going to keep our focus from here on out. Understood?"

He sighed, nodded, and then asked with his cocky smirk back in place, "So what's it going to be?"

"This is a job for one of your superheroes." I chuckled, referring to his idiotic caped crusader reference of before. "C-Man to the rescue," I said theatrically.

He frowned. "C-Man? Who the hell is that?"

"Cunnilingus Man, of course," I murmured just as the door to the bathroom opened.

* * *

><p><em><strong>BELLA…<strong>_

The back seat of their car looked a lot different from the front, which was where I'd sat on the ride from the restaurant to the club. The soft tan leather seats were spacious and comfortable enough to make you want to lie down and take a long nap. The windows were so darkly tinted that you could have shot a porno without anyone outside seeing it. And throw pillows. Who the hell has piles of matching silk throw pillows in the back seat of their car?

"Would you like something to drink? Our bar is not quite as impressive as one in a limo, but it serves its purpose."

Edward's velvety voice made me completely forget about the interior of the car. It sounded like warm honey mixed with melted butter. I imagined pouring it all over my body and letting it ooze into my pores. I didn't give a shit about a drink. I wanted those warm lips against my ear, whispering sexy profanities as his fingers explored. _'Yes. Come on.' _ Just the memory of his words was enough to deliver a sexual punch straight to my center.

And god, those eyes of his were like two laser beams sending streams of blue-gray light straight down to my core. Everywhere they touched they left a trail of scorched flesh in their wake.

_Bella? Hello? HELLOOO?! Anyone home? Haven't we had this conversation already? Who the fuck CARES about his vocal chords or his eyes? Shut up with the mushy shit! We're not in this for the love, Bells. We're in it for the FUCK-HOT SEX! Got it?_

Oh yeah, my inner slut was one smart bitch. I said a silent 'thank you' to her for snapping me back to reality. What had I been thinking? I was in the back seat of a sleek, black pimpmobile with a high-class, highly compensated, ridiculously gorgeous male hooker who was very skilled at what he did. Oh, and I couldn't forget the one behind the wheel in the front seat either. He was just as hot as his back-seat counterpart and a very smooth operator to boot. _Keep your focus, Bella. Remember, this is just a job to them. They punch a time-clock just like you do._

"No, thank you. That little bit of champagne was enough."

In the front seat, Jacob adjusted his rear-view mirror so that he could see us in the back. "With this traffic, it's going to take about ten minutes to get to the apartment. Plenty of time…" His dark eyes crinkled and I could tell he was grinning without even seeing his face.

"Plenty of time for what?" I blurted out without thinking.

Edward smiled, and the heat in that smile turned on the faucet between my thighs. One look from those eyes and I was drenched. My vaginal shut-off valve was hopelessly broken. How the hell was I supposed to keep my focus and not drown in those intense eyes of his?

Edward reached around me and adjusted the throw pillows in my corner of the seat. "Lay back, Bella."

_Jump off a cliff, Bella. Slit your wrists, Bella. Take these little pills, Bella. _I'd do anything that beautiful voice told me to do. I lay back in the seat without a word of protest or a single question.

He stretched my legs out beside his body, which was perched on the edge of the seat. His long legs were crumpled up in the floor and I wondered how he could be comfortable. My concern for his comfort didn't last long, though. He slid his palms up the sides of my legs until he reached my upper thighs. At his silent prompting, I raised my ass up off of the seat just enough for him to push my dress above my hips. Yet again, my sexy cocktail dress was wadded up in a ball around my waist, and I didn't give one big shit about it either.

He raised my left leg in the air, his long fingers clasped gently around my ankle. My slinky black pumps were still on both feet. The sight of my foot resting on his shoulder was incredibly sexy. Even sexier was when he began to kiss his way up my leg. Inch by excruciating inch he kissed a meandering path up my calf, then around my knee, then up my inner thigh. At the same time, his other warm, silky palm was on my right leg, gently squeezing and massaging its way to the top.

When he got to the juncture of my thighs he stopped and looked up at me along the lines of my body. Our eyes met. His were smoldering, a dark smoky gray that reminded me of an impending storm. Why did he have to look at me that way?

_Look deep into those eyes, girlfriend. I don't see any mushy shit in those eyes. I see a man who wants to fuck you. He wants to push open your legs and pound his rock-hard cock into you until you scream. That is raw sex looking back at you, honey. Lust in its purest form._

My vocal chords completely caved in response to those eyes. A whimper escaped my mouth at the thought of Edward's lips touching the sensitive skin between my legs. His fingers had been bad enough. I couldn't even _begin_ to imagine his mouth and his tongue getting in on the act. And his cock? Oh god, I couldn't even go there. Another whimper from my throat bought a soft curse from the front seat.

"Jesus…" Jacob breathed. I saw his eyes in the rear view mirror looking back at us. The lights from oncoming cars regularly lit up his face and gave me a good view of those dark, simmering coals. Strangely, the thought of him watching us didn't bother me. It just added another sensual dimension to this whole surreal experience.

Edward responded to my whimpers by gently pushing my thighs wide apart. One of my feet came to rest on the hump in the center of the floor, the other leg ended up propped up on the top of the back seat. And then the torture began.

Unlike Mike, who'd attacked my pussy like he had been gnawing on an ear of corn, Edward started out light and slow. First, he traced the contours of my sex with feather-like brushes of his fingertips, pausing at my opening like he was going to slide his finger inside, but instead moving on. My hips undulated underneath his touch, a not-so-subtle hint for him to just get on with it, but Edward was a master of his craft. He expertly teased me with his fingers until I was dripping wet, aching and swollen again with need.

I threaded my fingers into his bronze hair and tugged. I was done with hints. I wanted his tongue, his lips, his fingers all over and inside my pussy and I wanted them _now. _

But I was completely unprepared for what came next. Kissing was something a man only did to your mouth, right? Wrong. Edward lovingly kissed the outside of my folds, slid his tongue in to separate them and then kissed the warm, moist flesh hidden inside. He held my swollen clit between his lips, and caressed it, sucking lightly before moving on. He darted his tongue inside of me, and then pulled it back out again before I could react, and he did that shit over and over again. The man had skills, no doubt about it. I was moaning, slowing grinding my hips up against his face, even as he'd pull back and chuckle underneath his breath. I clawed at his hair, making a complete mess of his thick bronze locks. The ache was becoming unbearable, and I knew that he sensed I was close. He slid his right hand underneath my ass.

"Give me your hands." That low, hoarse command sent chills down my spine. I laid both of my hands on my stomach and he guided my fingers to my crotch.

He looked up at me again and the lust in his eyes was nearly my undoing. I groaned at what he said next.

"Hold yourself open for me."

Obeying his command, I tugged at my folds and using the fingers of both hands, I spread myself open for him, exposing my swollen clit so that he could do whatever he wanted with it. He kissed it, licked at it lightly, flicked it with his tongue, and then sucked it gently into his mouth. His hands kneaded my ass in perfect rhythm with his mouth. I threw my head back against the side of the car, paying no attention to the thunk when it hit against the hard armrest, and then let out a deep, throaty, moan. I was rewarded with a whispered curse from Edward.

"Fuck, your clit is so swollen," he gasped and then pulled it back into his mouth. His hot breaths blew against my skin as he sucked and that excited me even more. "You like this. You like it, don't you?" The soft velvet voice that sounded like honey was gone. Now it was rough, husky and breathless.

"Oh god, yes," I moaned. "I want your fingers."

His long fingers slid inside of me and when his palm met the resistance of my skin, he pushed them in even further—deep, hard thrusts, his fingers moving in conjunction with the powerful sucking pull of my clit into his mouth. Less than ten repetitions of that shit had me bucking my ass up off the leather seat and screaming as yet another earth-shattering orgasm ripped through me. My whimpers and Edward's hoarse moans were the only sounds in the car for awhile.

Then Jacob slammed on the brakes. Edward cursed as he was thrown against the backs of the front seats. Luckily, I had nowhere to go since _his_ body was keeping mine wedged on the seat. Had we wrecked? Reached our destination? It was hard for me to figure out what was going on through the fog of my afterglow.

"Out of my way!"

The car door was standing open, and there was Jacob ordering Edward out of the back. I heard a soft laugh from Edward and then he was gone. Things happened really fast after that.

The door shut, but not before the dome lamp on the ceiling gave me a glimpse of Jacob's face. His dusky skin glowed in the dim light and his eyes were black pinpoints aimed directly at me. Edward was in the front seat, but was turned around and watching.

Then my legs were roughly pushed open. It didn't hurt, but was just rough enough to send a jolt of pure lust straight from Jacob's hands and into my body.

"FUCK!" he barked loudly, and then laughed breathlessly. "GOD, you are _killing_ me, girl! You are fucking driving me fucking insane, do you know that?!"

Before I could offer up a comment his mouth was on me, and it was the complete opposite from what I'd just experienced with Edward. Jacob's personality came through in everything he did, and oral sex was no exception. He attacked my body with a passion and intensity that rocked me to the core. He sucked hard at my clit like it was a too-thick milkshake stuck in a straw. His fingers drove deep inside of me at the same time. Edward gentleness had been foreplay. His tender kissing and sucking had only primed me for what Jacob was now dishing out in spades. _My tongue-man._

"Oh God, I want inside of you so bad I can taste it," he groaned painfully through his clenched teeth. "I want you, Bella." He continued to talk to me in short, bursts of breathless words as he flicked my clit with his tongue and then sucked it as deep into his mouth as he could get it.

It didn't take me long to reach another pinnacle. I pulled at his short hair and jacked my hips up against his face as another strong climax steamrolled through me. Another scream erupted out of my throat and it sounded way too loud for the close confines of the car. Gasping, Jacob pulled his mouth away and gave me time to recover.

"Taste." He wedged a knee between my legs and leaned down to kiss me. "Taste how good you are."

His lips tasted like my juices. I kissed them and licked at them until I'd removed all traces of sex from his mouth. When I was done, he wiggled his body until he was lying beside of me, his back against the seat and me spooned in against his chest. I sighed in contentment at the feel of his thick, hard cock pressed against my lower back.

That was when I caught Edward's gaze in the front seat. He was still turned around watching us, and oh god, he was so close. I could tell just from looking at his face. His eyes were dark, unfocused and glazed, his breaths coming fast, sharp and shallow. At that very moment, my inner whore rose to the surface and shocked me with what came out of my mouth.

"Oh, yes," I whispered. "Come on. Cum hard." I kept my gaze locked onto his across the few feet that separated us.

He ripped his eyes violently from mine and growled. He whipped around and dropped his head back against the head rest, and then a series of the most beautiful rough and husky moans intermingled with vulgar curses issued from the front seat. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to watch him cum, but he stayed turned around. All I could see from my vantage point was the bones in his jaw clenching tightly together.

Jacob laughed quietly, and seemed to derive some sort of strange satisfaction from the whole thing.

"Is he…?" I whispered to Jacob.

"One can only hope," he said, chuckling softly. "But I doubt it. The man has balls of steel. He's holding it and having a fucking good orgasm by the sound of it."

At my confused look, Jacob quietly explained Leather and Lace's Golden Rule. I was shocked. I'd never heard of a man stopping his ejaculation that many times. Mike couldn't have held out once if his sorry ass had depended on it. But as Jacob explained it, it was not only possible, but _required _for an escort, and it felt good, too.

"We have a PC muscle similar to your Kegel that we can strengthen. Once you can stop the flow of urine, stopping cum is easy," he explained with a shrug.

"Easier for some than others," Edward chuckled breathlessly from the front seat. "Jake gets all excited when he meets someone new and dribbles on the floor like a little puppy."

Jacob growled, raised his leg over top of mine and kicked hard at the front seat, but it was all in good fun. "Oh, shut up and go back to your happy place." Then he turned his attention back to me. "Don't let Edward's quiet, sophisticated act fool you. He's a first class cocky son-of-a-bitch."

I sputtered with laughter as I wriggled my dress back down around my hips. "Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black to me. Where are we, by the way?"

"We're at the company apartment building. In the parking lot," Jake answered. He shifted his weight and pulled himself upright. "Let's get out of this cramped car and onto a nice big bed where we can stretch our legs."

* * *

><p><em><strong>EDWARD…<strong>_

"You all right?" Jake asked, careful to keep his voice low as Bella moved around the room oohing and aahing over the apartment's elegant décor.

"I'm fine," I assured him under my breath. "I can deal."

But I really couldn't. This job was spiraling out of control faster than I could stop it. I'd nearly lost it back there in the car. It had taken every ounce of mental and physical discipline I'd had to keep from exploding inside my pants. Relaxation usually worked for me, but not that time. I'd been forced to nearly squeeze my dick in two to keep from cumming. But damn, the O had been worth the agony. It had been a long time since holding back had felt that fucking good and it was all because of Bella.

"Focus," I said, partly to him, but mostly I was pep-talking myself again. "We just need to focus."

Jake snickered. "Repeat that enough and maybe it'll eventually work."

"OMG, you have a sound system just like at the club! And you have Pink on here!" she squealed in excitement. "Oh guys, come here and look! This is my favorite song _ever_!"

We made our way across the room to the wet bar that housed the sound system and peered over Bella's shoulder.

"Alice and I _love_ this song! After we kicked our respective asshole boyfriends out of our lives, this became our theme song. We did karaoke with it and we even made up our own dance moves!"

I looked over at Jake behind her back and he was grinning and biting his lip in anticipation. He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked suggestively.

"We'd _love _to see _and_ hear that," Jake said. "Wouldn't we, Edward?"

I murmured my agreement.

"I need a mic, a fake mic of some sort."

Jake swept his eyes around the room and settled on a grouping of tall candles on the coffee table. He plucked one of the white ones from its brass base and handed it to her.

"You guys sit over there and move the coffee table out of the way," she ordered.

We did as she asked and then decided on our seating: Jake sank down into the white satin wing-backed chair and crossed his legs in front of him at the ankles. I chose the dark blue sofa, draped my arm casually over the back and relaxed my long legs in whatever position they naturally fell into.

I glanced Jake's way and his eyes were all over Bella. And no wonder. Her face was animated and flushed with excitement. She was smiling as she raked her hands through her hair and roughly mussed it up into sexy tangles.

"I have to get a certain look," she said in explanation, and then giggled.

_Who the hell are you, and what did you do with our Bella?_ I wondered as I watched her smooth down the sides of her dress and then purposely raise it back up until the hem was just below her crotch.

My cock jumped in my pants at the sight of her. She was five foot three inches of brunette sex. Did the girl have any idea how delicious she looked right now? I doubted very seriously that she did. She was too focused on getting "her look" and clearing her throat.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jake tug at his crotch. He was picking up her vibes, too. Hell, a blind man would have gotten a boner from the sexual energy pouring off of her, and she hadn't even begun.

She returned to the bar and started the song, rushing back to her position in front of us. She began to move, and then sing along with Pink.

It took me less than a minute to realize that I should have never taken this job. I was fucked. Bella Swan had me by the nuts and if I wasn't careful, my heart was going to be next.


	4. Chapter 4: Exposed

**AUTHOR's NOTE: **I highly recommend listening to Pink's song,_ U & Ur Hand_, just to help set the tone for the first part of this chapter. Also, I want to thank every single person who is following this story, and special cyber hugs going out to those who have been kind enough to leave me a review. (Oh, and just a note of warning, this is a HORRID cliffhanger. lol I know ya'll gonna hate me. I will post the next chapter this weekend.)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Exposed<strong>

**EDWARD…**

The pounding and erotic beat of Pink's _U & Ur Hand _took over the room _and_ Bella. In the space of a few seconds, the shy and uncertain Isabella Marie Swan transformed into a confident, sexy-assed bitch who'd had it up to her tits with men. I was mesmerized. I glanced at Jake. He was completely absorbed, biting his lower lip and grinning devilishly. I turned my attention back to Bella. My hopes of keeping this evening under control sank as I watched her dance and sing her way through the first stanza. We were fucked.

_Check it out  
>Going out<br>On the late night  
>Looking tight<br>Feeling nice  
>It's a cock fight<br>I can tell  
>I just know<br>That it's going down  
>Tonight<em>

Her hair was mussed into sexy tangles, her legs spread seductively wide and one knee bouncing with the beat, the "mic" held to her mouth and her sultry brown eyes boring a hole in both of our faces as she sang in a strong, confident voice. We were no longer Edward and Jacob. We were the dickheads in Pink's song whom she was determinedwere _not_ going to ruin her fun.

_At the door we don't wait 'cause we know them  
>At the bar six shots just beginning<br>That's when dickhead put his hands on me  
>But you see…<em>

At the chorus, she slinked closer and loomed over me, her expression arrogant and condescending. I heard the triumph in her voice, the confidence in the words she was belting out. The woman singing this song had been hurt, but she was better now, thank you very much. She didn't need me buying her drinks or feeling her up.

_I'm not here for your entertainment  
>You don't really want to mess with me tonight<br>Just stop and take a second  
>I was fine before you walked into my life<br>Cause you know it's over  
>Before it began<br>Keep your drink just give me the money  
>It's just you and your hand tonight<em>

During the last line of the chorus she mimicked a guy jacking off by thrusting her crotch forward, pumping her fist up and down, and throwing her head back in ecstasy. My cock jumped into overdrive at the sight. The woman in this song—the woman Bella had morphed into right before my eyes—didn't need a man, didn't even _want_ a man, but instead of turning me off, all I wanted to do was throw her down on the floor and give it to her hard.

_Midnight  
>I'm drunk<br>I don't give a fuck_

_Wanna dance by myself_

_Guess you're outta luck_

_Don't touch, back up_

_I'm not the one_

_Uh Bye, bye  
><em>

It was Jake's turn. Second verse, she straddled his outstretched legs, one knee bouncing again in rhythm to the beat, one hand on her hip in cocky defiance. When she sang the words, 'I don't give a fuck', she sneered, bent over and jabbed him in the chest, giving me a nice view of the crevice between her thighs. Jake laughed and licked his lips. He was eating up her bad-ass, sexy attitude and so was I.

Another chorus, another round of fist pumps to the crotch and I was fighting to stay put on the sofa. My cock was rock-hard and testing the strength of my pants as it strained against the thin linen fabric.

On the last verse, she beckoned for Jake to dance with her. He grinned and joined her on the floor. Every move she made—every sexy swivel, every hard thrust of her hips, every jerk of her head and sling of her tangled hair—Jake copied, laughing the entire time. He even joined in with the fist pumping move in the chorus. He grabbed his boner through his pants and stroked himself in the most vulgar way possible, feigning an orgasm while squeezing his balls—B-rate porn at its worst. But Bella didn't seem to mind. She grinned and pointed at his crotch, all the while never missing a beat in the song.

Then the music stopped; the song was over. The confident woman who didn't give a fuck and just wanted to drink and dance the night away alone, disappeared. In the sudden silence, Bella giggled and covered her mouth; her face flushed pink. Was she embarrassed?

Jake dropped down on one knee and grabbed her hand. "I think I'm in fuckin' love," he moaned with an exaggerated sighing swoon. Bella giggled some more and told him to shut up. "Marry me, Bella," he pleaded dramatically. "I can't live without you. I want to spend the rest of my life raising your Happiness Quotient one orgasm at a time."

Jake was laying it on thick, and thankfully Bella saw it for the bullshit that it was, just more of his normal lunacy. She snorted and yanked him to his feet, and then yelped with laughter as he slid his arms around her waist and swung her around in circles.

"God, I love your talented, sexy ass!" Jake exclaimed when he set her feet back down onto the floor.

Bella laughed, dipped her head and blushed again. She seemed embarrassed by all of the attention. Finally, she looked to me for a reaction. I'd been watching all of the silliness between them with a strange detachment. My body was reacting as any man's would, but my mind was swimming aimlessly in circles, like a man-overboard who didn't know which direction to go to get home. Where was I? _Oh yes. I remember now. I'm an escort, a glorified prostitute in expensive clothes, in a ritzy company apartment, who's been paid an ungodly amount of money to entertain this woman standing in front of me waiting for me to speak._ _You do not have feelings for clients, Edward._ _This CANNOT happen._

"Are you trained?" I blurted out suddenly, silently thanking God that my brain decided to switch on at the last moment. Because, despite the sexy dance moves and the hard-on they'd given me, her voice was what had stunned me the most. It was strong and clear and perfectly pitched. The girl had a set of lungs on her that would make a mediocre pop star turn green with envy.

"Trained?" she asked, frowning and shaking her head at the seemingly randomness of my question.

"Your voice. Have you had formal training?" I asked.

Jake was standing behind her and watching me curiously over her shoulder, but I ignored the silent questions I saw in his face.

She laughed and nervously brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Pffft, no. Just me and Alice and a Karaoke set, goofing around on the weekends."

"You're an incredible talent," I stated simply, not even bothering to disguise the awe in my voice.

She gave me the strangest look, like this was news to her, or like she didn't believe me. Her neck turned pink again and her cheeks flushed. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft and hesitant and shy. "I'm…I'm glad you liked it."

That's when I felt it, that strong, overwhelming sense of connection with another person, a damned fucking connection with a _client_, which was _NOT_ supposed to fucking happen. _You have to fight this!_ I battled with myself in those few moments over what to do or say to prevent this entire evening from turning into a fuck-up of mammoth proportions, but I came up empty and just stood there looking and feeling like a brainless idiot. Luckily, Jake came to my rescue. He knew me better than anyone, and had an uncanny ability to sense when I needed my ass pulled out of the fire.

"Let's move this party into the bedroom," Jake suggested smoothly, flicking his dark eyes in my direction. He pushed aside her hair and planted a soft kiss on the back of her neck and then glanced back at me. I swallowed hard and sent Jake a grateful 'Thank you' with my eyes.

"Good idea," I said, turning the full-force of my seductive charm on Bella. A fucking connection with a client was the _last_ thing I needed in my life right now. It was time to get back on the clock and get this job done, just pull up the steel wall and keep the emotional bullshit to a minimum. "Jake and I are pretty talented ourselves," I said, giving her the cockiest grin I could muster.

Her lips parted slightly at my pronouncement and the blush returned. _Beautiful._

"That we are." Jake said, laughing softly into her hair.

* * *

><p><strong>BELLA…<strong>

Edward had disappeared from the room, and Jacob was busy lighting candles while I stood in the middle of the bedroom and eyed the furnishings.

I was suddenly feeling a little off-balance and nervous. This whole evening had spiraled out of control somehow. What had happened back there in the living room? Alice and I had _never_ performed our "To Fuck With Men" song in front of _anyone, _let alone two men_._ I felt like I'd violated a sacred trust between friends. Either that, or my body and soul had finally been completely taken over by my inner skank, like some demon possession gone horribly awry.

_Honey, I've been telling you for YEARS we'd have more fun if you'd just let me loose a little more often._

I ignored that inner voice and thought about Edward asking if I'd been trained, and then telling me I was an incredible talent, and then me blushing hot in response like a giggly little preteen on a mall date. What was going on here? What did any of this have to do with my 21st birthday and meaningless sex? Even with my clothes on, I was suddenly feeling very exposed. These two men were drawing me out and making me show them things about myself that had never seen the light of day. Yeah, I was a slut, but only in my mind, and only _then_ when I was really horny. I was a professional singer belting out songs on stage only in my daydreams, and _never_ in front an audience, not even an audience of two.

_You need to just relax, Bella. Chill. _I pushed aside those thoughts and in an attempt to shake off my nervousness, I focused on the bedroom and its furnishings: plush beige carpeting, smooth, light walls with just a tinge of tan, a dark brown wing-backed chair with beige throw pillows in the corner near the bed, and beside it an elegant three-legged round wooden table, and no television, which was no surprise. Leather and Lace provided their own entertainment. Fine art and gold fixtures were scattered along the walls, at least the ones that didn't have windows or mirrors.

_Mirrors? Hot DAMN! "Bella Does Eddie & Jake" now showing at IMAX SEX! Your source for 3-D porn!_

Oh my god. Now that I actually took notice, there were mirrors everywhere_, _understated, but strategically placed mirrors that seemed to fit in seamlessly with the decor. A huge closet with mirrored sliding doors paralleled the bed on one side—a perfect side-view of all the action. At the foot of the bed, on the opposing wall, there was a desk built into a recessed niche, and it was the exact width of the bed. A beautifully carved wood-frame mirror hung on the wall above the desk, and managed to fill the entire space, providing a clear view of the whole bed and giving the phrase "rear-view mirror" an entirely new meaning. Something made me glance upward, an instinct borne out of reading too many trashy romance novels. Yep. There were mirrors on the ceiling above the bed, but not just any mirrors. These weren't the cheesy square mirror tiles you bought by the box at Home Depot. These were cut into circles and half-moons and elongated curves, and all fitted expertly together to form an elegant swirled design above the bed. It fit the tone of the room without making it look trashy. Yes, Leather and Lace was one classy organization.

Then my gaze drifted across the room to the far wall, which wasn't a wall at all, but was instead nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows. No drapes, just glass from one corner of the room to the other. I could see my reflection in the large panes, and Jacob's as well, as he moved about the room lighting candles.

And finally, a single doorway between the windows and the recessed desk, which apparently led to a bathroom or a kitchen, and from which Edward now emerged. He must have seen my gaze focused on the windows, because he supplied the details without my asking.

"We're on the top floor. We can see out, but no one can see in," he explained. Then he smiled crookedly, which made my stomach lurch up into my throat. "We have _complete_ privacy."

"What do you think?" Jacob asked, after he'd finally lit all of the candles and dimmed the lights. "I saw you scoping out the place. Not what you expected, huh?"

"No," I admitted with a small laugh. "I'm really surprised that there's no Austin Powers bed."

In place of the stereotypical round stud bed, there was a king-size _normal_ bed that was covered with a tan satin duvet, and piles of pillows—_tons_ of pillows, now that I looked closer. I wondered why a bed would need so many extra pillows until I remembered the back seat of their car. This bed wasn't here for sleeping. No one could ever get a good night's rest with that many pillows, not unless you threw them all in the floor before you crawled between the covers. No, this bed was a "full-service" bed, just like Leather and Lace was a "full-service" escort company, and Edward and Jacob were "full-service" men.

"We have a _little_ bit more class than that," Jacob joked.

"Not much," Edward quipped and then laughed. "Jake dreams of owning a waterbed someday. It's his life's dream."

"Hey, it's good for the back," Jacob asserted, but I noticed the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Yeah, right," Edward said, rolling his eyes.

While tossing jokes back and forth, both of them had managed to drift across the room and were now standing next to me. My nervousness had returned, despite their attempts to ease my tension with their light banter.

_What the hell is the problem, Bella? They've had their hands all over you all night, and both of them have been downtown already. What's there to be nervous about? This is the good part, the FUCK-HAWT sex part! Chill OUT!_

Yeah. Chill out. Uh huh.

"I really like the dress, but it needs to come off." Jacob.

"I'll get the zipper." Edward.

One in front, and one behind, and me in the middle suddenly feeling very shy about my unveiling. Thank god the lights were dimmed and there were candles everywhere. Even a girl like me, with skin the color of a fish's underbelly, looked good in candlelight, right?

The zipper was down; a draft of cool air hit my back. Jacob gathered the hem up into his hands, while Edward worked the same maneuver from behind. With arms raised, my dress traveled up my stomach, my chest and over my head in a flourish of static. Jacob laughed and smoothed down my flyaway hair, and then total silence fell over the room as eyes raked slowly over my body. I watched Jacob make the visual journey from my face to my thighs with his dark, glittering eyes, and it was a damned leisurely trip he was making, like he had all day to take in the sights along the way. I felt very exposed and a lot uncomfortable. Then he pursed his lips together and sucked in a breath.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed, his voice low and sultry, his eyes dark and hooded. He touched my breasts very tenderly, almost like he was afraid I'd break. He lazily dragged his fingertips across my nipples, causing them to harden, and then down the center of my stomach. I loved the contrast of his dusky skin against my paleness. "Perfect," he sighed.

Then Edward tugged gently at my shoulder from behind, his silent command to let him have his turn at the admiration party. I took a deep, nervous breath and slowly turned so that I was now facing Edward and my back was to Jacob.

Both of these men were exceptionally beautiful. Jacob was stunning with his tanned skin, vivid white smile and quick laughter. He was so outgoing that he immediately put me at ease, despite his smoldering good looks. But, it was Edward's quiet beauty that intimidated me the most. He was fashion-model gorgeous: tall, slender, and had the most amazing eyes I'd ever seen. His aloofness added an element of mystery to him that puzzled me, excited me and made me nervous, all at the same time.

What was behind those cool blue-gray eyes that now swept all over my body? Nothing of what he was feeling or thinking showed on his face as he made his visual appraisal of me. What had happened to the Edward who had laughed while I was dancing and singing, and who'd spoke of my talent with such awe in his voice?

Instead of touching my breasts like Jacob had, he lightly trailed the fingers of his right hand down my arm, sending chill bumps racing across my skin. "You're like a marble statue, so smooth. A living, breathing Venus de Milo," he said softly.

"Except she has arms," Jacob interjected from behind me with a chuckle.

Edward's eyes flicked over my shoulder in Jacob's direction, and then darted quickly back to mine. There was no humor in his expression at Jacob's remark. Instead, his eyes had turned that smoky gray, just like back in the car. Lust in its purest form.

There was complete silence in the room as Edward lightly brushed his fingers down the center of my chest, as his eyes swept over every inch of my body that he could see, as his breaths came shallow and quick. I did my own fair share of looking, and the man was aroused and hard, his erection pushing out and off to the side against his dress pants. I felt my own breaths quicken in my chest at the thought of him inside of me.

"Do you want me to do a striptease, or are _you_ going to do the honors?"

Jacob's voice broke the spell between us. Edward blinked a few times and seemed to come to his senses. He shot a glance at Jacob behind me, and then I watched in total fascination as he transformed right before my eyes. His jaw relaxed and his eyes seemed to lighten, although that was probably just an illusion. I couldn't explain it except to say that it felt like there was an invisible wall between us now. Jacob was wide open and showed you everything there was to see about him. Edward, on the other hand, was an enigma that I couldn't figure out.

_WHAT. THE. FUCK? Is this Psychology 101? Do you see a damned couch anywhere in this room? The man has a cock. It's hard, and it appears to be in good working order. What else do you need to know about him?_

"Oh, no," Edward insisted, shaking his head and fighting back a smile. "I swear to God, if I have to watch Jake do a strip tease, I'm outta here."

We all laughed. The intimate moment was gone, and the light bulb finally came on in my head. I finally put two and two together in those few seconds. Jacob and Edward were in this escort thing together, like two men in a boat on a journey across the sea. Edward was a passenger, but whether he was a willing passenger or a reluctant one was yet unknown. Jacob was the rudder. He kept the boat moving in the right direction, and made corrections with his joking banter when things got off course, when things got too intimate, when things got too heavy.

_OMG. Just take the man's clothes off already, and shut up with the arm-chair analysis. Leave that to the experts and just get on with the FUCK-HAWT SEX! THAT's what we're here for, not this Freudian shit, which, may I remind you, you know absolutely NOTHING about!_

That voice in my head was right for once. I wasn't here to figure these two guys out. I was here to get laid. This was my 21st birthday present, courtesy of my best friend, Alice, and if I wasn't careful I was going to completely mess it up and waste a ton of her money.

"I'll take them off," I said, switching on my best provocative smile and turning to face Jacob.

Since we'd already wasted too much time talking, I got down to the business of relieving Jacob of his clothes. No slow, seductive unfastening of his shirt for _me_. No. My fingers flew over the white buttons. I pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and he shrugged it the rest of the way off for me. Then he pulled his white wife-beater over his head and tossed it aside. With the cocky confidence of a man who knew he looked good, he stood before me with a crooked grin and allowed himself to be inspected.

_Woohoo! Laundry day has arrived! Get the detergent and the dirty clothes and let's put this fucking eight-pack to work, baby!_

Jacob was ripped. No other way to describe it. I ran my fingers down his washboard stomach, and those eight squares were as hard as concrete. His shoulders were wide, the muscles in them well-defined, and his guns were massive.

"Wow." As soon as the word left my mouth, I felt as stupid as an airhead teenager, but Jacob didn't seem to mind. He flashed his white teeth at me and chuckled.

"Thanks," he said, grinning. Then his eyebrows rose and he glanced down south. "Pants?"

I chickened out. "You do those."

While Jake was pulling off his socks, loosening his belt and unzipping his fly, Edward was running his hands all over my back and thighs, very light and brief passes of his fingers that relaxed and excited me at the same time.

"Mmmm, that feels good, Edward." I closed my eyes and moaned softly, as chill bumps spread like wildfire down my arms and back.

"Bella…"

I opened my eyes at the sound of Jacob's voice just in time to see him kick his underwear to the side with his foot. My gaze shifted from the floor back up to Jacob's…

_Oh…_

_My…_

_Sweet…_

_Jesus…_

I wouldn't call myself a penis connoisseur, since I'd only been lucky enough to lay my eyes on Mike's—which had been lovely, but nothing to write home about—and the occasional toddler who'd succeeded in ripping off his diaper in broad daylight, and those tended to resemble the little Vienna Sausages that came in cans. I was completely unprepared for _this. _

"Do you need a magnifying glass?" Edward snickered behind me.

Jacob's eyes narrowed as he glared at Edward over my shoulder. "Jealous much?" he asked, smirking.

I heard a sarcastic snort from Edward behind me, as I frantically searched through my brain for that long-lost formula for the circumference of a circle.

_A magnifying glass?! Hell-fucking-no! What we need is a penis protractor to measure THIS baby!_

What was that damned formula again? Something about a pie? Circumference of a circle equals Pi divided by the radius? Or was it the diameter times the radius divided by Pi? Or maybe it was two times the radius and the whole thing divided by Pi.

_This isn't Dick Geometry and you're not going to find a Penile Protractor just lying around on the dresser. You've already got the perfect tool to measure that circle, so GET TO IT, BELLA!_

I reached out and closed my fingers around Jacob's thick, hard shaft. He sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes drifted shut and a small, satisfied sigh slid out from between his parted lips. My fingers encircled him and _almost_ touched. If I squeezed just a little tighter, my thumb might have actually met my other fingers, to complete the circle, but I was afraid of hurting him, so I left that quarter-inch gap open. I loosened my grip and stroked him lightly with my fingers, from the base all the way back up to the tip.

"God," Jacob opened his eyes and groaned softly. "That's enough, babe. That feels too damned good."

I reluctantly pulled away, but my eyes stayed glued to his groin. He was larger than Mike had been, but not so large that he was scary. His pubes were dark, and close-cut, almost like he had a sexy five o'clock shadow going on.

_Five o'COCK shadow, you mean. _My inner slut giggled silently.

"Dark Satin," I breathed, raising my eyes to his.

Jacob's cocky grin instantly disappeared, and his eyes got darker, if that was even possible. "What did you say?"

"That's my name for you. Dark Satin," I answered.

He looked at me strangely. A small frown creased his forehead. He smiled in amazement. "That's beautiful, Bella. No one's ever…"

He shook his head and left the rest of the sentence unspoken, but I got his meaning. No one had ever given his body such a beautiful name before, but that was what it had felt like the few short moments I'd held him in my hand. Dark Satin. Every bit of his cocky attitude was gone. I smiled up at him, and it was the real Jacob Black I saw smiling genuinely back at me, not the escort paid to entertain me.

"My turn," Edward murmured into my hair.

As I turned around to face Edward, Jacob snickered. "Hold on. Let me get the smelling salts. She might need them."

"Jake, shut up," Edward sneered playfully. He had a tiny grin hanging onto the corners of his mouth, and a glint of something deliciously evil in his eyes. Jacob laughed under his breath in response.

I repeated the same procedure with Edward: fingers flying over the buttons of his shirt, him tugging it off his arms and tossing it aside. As the wife-beater rose over his stomach and over his head, I realized that Jacob had been a _lot _less than truthful. Edward didn't need a molded plastic six pack to go with his pink superhero costume. He was just as ripped as Jacob, except his build was leaner and sleeker. I ran my fingers over the six hard and defined muscles of his lower stomach.

"Jake is a lying ass," Edward said smugly. "In case you haven't figured it out, he continually puts me down, but of course, it's to compensate for his own physical inadequacies."

"How about we let Bella decide who's inadequate." Jacob laughed and buried his nose in my hair, pushing his cock against me from behind. My alter ego and I shivered at the feel of that thick shaft of steel rubbing one out against our ass.

Without asking, like Jacob had, Edward started stripping off the rest of his clothes. His socks first, and then followed by his belt, his pants and finally his boxers, which he kicked off to side with his foot, which caused his…

_OH._

_MY._

_GOD…_

Complete silence descended over the room. Even my inner whore was rendered speechless by the vision before me. I fought to keep my mouth closed and not let my jaw drop to the floor, but I wasn't entirely successful.

"I've told him he needs to tattoo a warning label on that thing to keep from scaring away small animals and even _smaller_ women," Jacob said, snickering.

Edward smirked, but kept his eyes on my face, waiting and watching for my reaction.

"It's…_nice_," I said feebly. Yeah, it was a stupid response, but what do you say when you're staring at the most incredible dick you've ever seen in your entire pathetically sheltered and virginal life?

_I'll tell you what you say. _My inner 'ho-bag finally found her voice_. Damn, that is_ _one fine barber pole, honey! Let me at it, and I'll paint some stripes on that motherfucker with my tongue! _

"Might I suggest some names?" Jacob interjected into the awkward moment. "Godzilla? King Kong? T-Rex?"

I was wondering what else I should say, when my mouth opened of its own accord. "Will it fit?" I asked stupidly.

Jacob guffawed loudly behind me, but Edward didn't laugh. Instead, he cupped my cheek in his palm. The smirk was gone; his eyes had softened. That wall I'd felt between us before had disappeared.

"I won't hurt you. I promise," he said tenderly.

I believed him.

"Go ahead. Touch him," Jacob spoke into my ear. "Anacondas don't bite. They just squeeze you to death. So as long as you don't let him wrap it around your neck, you'll be fine."

I couldn't help but laugh at Jacob's comparison, even though it was greatly exaggerated. Edward's wasn't an anaconda, but it sure wasn't a newt either. I was itching to touch him, so I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, just like I had with Jacob. They met, but just barely. He sucked in a shallow breath and let his eyes drift shut with a soft moan. Then I stroked him lightly from base to tip and it took a _little longer_ to make that trip than it had with Jacob.

"You're Pale Silk," I said softly.

Edward's eyes shot open, and they were once again a deep, smoky gray.

"Pale Silk," he repeated. "I like that."

Then without warning, he gathered me against him and kissed me. His fingers threaded through my hair, gathering bunches of it up into his fist as he devoured my mouth. I was aware, in the shadowy recesses of my mind, that "devoured" was a cliché straight out of a cheesy romance novel, but I'd never had a man get so completely consumed with my mouth before. Devoured was the only word I could come up with to describe it. It was the most intense kissing we'd done since this night had begun: a continuous round of gentle nibbling, tender sucking, and deep thrusts of his tongue. He barely gave me time to catch a breath in between, before his mouth was on mine again, and during it all, he pressed that silken cock hard against my stomach.

"You going to let her come up for air?"

"Sorry," Edward murmured softly underneath his breath. But, when our eyes met, we both knew that he wasn't sorry, and neither was I. We pulled apart, reluctantly. Jacob was standing alongside us now, one eyebrow cocked and grinning.

"Condom time," he quipped, in a pretty good imitation of M.C. Hammer. Edward grinned and caught the packet that Jacob tossed to him.

The only thing I knew about rubbers were that they came in pretty boxes and were shelved beside the tampons in Wal-mart. Mike and I had never used them, since I'd been on the birth control pill for a long time before I'd met him. I watched in fascination as Edward and Jacob rolled them on with a practiced expertise borne out of years of experience.

There was not much talking after that, or joking. Edward moved to the bed, arranging and fluffing pillows to some unknown Leather & Lace criteria. When he was satisfied, he motioned for me to join him.

I didn't know what to expect now that it had finally come down to the actual sex. Would they lay me out flat on the bed and take turns, or would I be on top of one of _them?_ Who was going first? Did we need to draw straws or pick a number between one and twenty-five? I was so out of my league.

Lucky for me, Edward and Jacob had things all figured out, and the situation I found myself in was in no way, shape or form like what I had imagined. Edward was leaned back against a tall pile of pillows in a semi-reclining position, his thighs spread wide and his legs hanging off the end of the bed. He motioned for me to lie between his legs with my back resting against his chest. We scooted around and adjusted our position on the bed until he was satisfied.

Jacob was now standing at the end of the bed, his dark eyes moving over every inch of my prone body. He tenderly stroked his hands up and down my thighs as he made his appraisal.

"Babe, you are going to _love _this," he said softly.

So, it was _Jacob_ who was going to go first.


	5. Chapter 5: Ravaged

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **So many new followers! Thank you so much for your enthusiastic response to my story. In this chapter, I have fixed that ugly little cliffhanger from the last chapter, (LOL) and I've also given you a small nibble of the plot that is coming.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Ravaged<strong>

**BELLA…**

Jacob stood at the end of the bed, his dark eyes moving over every inch of my prone body. He tenderly stroked his hands up and down my thighs as he made his appraisal.

"I am _lovin'_ this heart." Jacob smiled and shook his head in admiration. He brushed his fingers lightly over my heart-shaped pubic hair and then traced the outline with his index finger. At the bottom tip of the heart, he met bare skin, slick and _wet_ bare skin. "God, you're so ready," he groaned.

I arched my hips up against his hand as his fingers slid easily inside. "Jacob," I whimpered. "Please…"

"Feel her, Edward." Jacob pulled his fingers out. Edward's weight shifted behind me, pushing me into a temporary upright position. His long fingers slid down my stomach and found the crevice between my legs. He cursed softly as he probed my folds, and pushed himself hard up against my side.

Then, abruptly his fingers were gone, and Jacob was probing his thick tip gently up against my opening. I whimpered again and raised my hips to meet him. What slowly slid inside of me was thick, thicker than anything that had ever been inside of me before, and hard as steel, and…

Artificial. Ugh.

Jacob sank into me completely, until his close-shaven pubic hair tickled at my folds. He gripped my ass in his hands and pushed in even deeper. His eyes drifted shut and a soft gasp of pleasure burst from his mouth. Then he pulled back out, another deep thrust in, back out. Slow and deliberate. In deep, pull slowly out.

"You feel amazing," he moaned.

It didn't feel amazing to me. I hated it. "Stop," I blurted out abruptly.

I felt Edward tense behind me. Jacob's body went still. He slowly pulled out and glanced nervously over my shoulder at Edward, and then back at me.

"What's wrong?" he asked hesitantly.

"I don't like that."

I could tell he was trying not to over react, but it was impossible not to miss the slight elevation of his eyebrows. I doubted very many women had said that to him in the course of his escort career.

"Just tell us what you _do_ like, and we'll do it. That's no problem. This night is for _you_," Edward said smoothly from behind me.

I hesitated, but my inner tramp had no such qualms. _Tell 'em, Bella. We don't eat bananas with the peeling still on. Lose the plastic raincoats, boys, or we're outta here!_

"No condoms," I said, and was surprised at how emphatic my voice sounded. "I hate them."

Jacob darted another glance over my shoulder at Edward: that silent communication thing again. They had it down to an art form.

"That's one rule we don't break," Jacob said, shaking his head. "That's for _everybody's_ protection. Sorry. No can do."

That's when something inside of me changed. I don't know if my inner slutbag had finally won and taken over my body completely, or what had happened, but I was going to get what I wanted out of this evening or it was over for me.

"I'm on the pill, so I'm not going to be slapping a paternity suit on either one of you. If you want proof, go look in my purse. Nor do I have any diseases. I've only been with one guy in my life and he was clean. Your company advertises that its escorts are drug-free and medically screened, so if either one of you give me an STD or Hep-C, I'll sue the ass off of your fancy-pants employer and shut them down. _No condoms."_

Geez, who the hell was _that_ talking? Whoever she was, she had on her 'Don't mess with me, bitch!' panties now.

Jacob's mouth dropped slightly open, but he was a smooth operator; he recovered quickly.

"These are special condoms for anal sex. They're thicker. We're required to use them not only for the usual reasons, but also because they help us make the evening last longer for _you_. They cut down on our sensation, a _lot_," Jacob explained. "If we take them off, then what you've got for the rest of the night is your husband or boyfriend: wham, bam, it's over."

_Whatever._ I'd take that any day over being sexed up by a piece of icky rubber. "No condoms," I repeated stubbornly.

I knew the both of them were talking this out with their eyes; it was weird how they did that, conversation without any words. But after several moments of silence, Edward acquiesced.

"No condoms, then." I saw his sail off the end of the bed and land on the floor. Jacob sighed and did the same thing.

"Damn, but you're making us work hard for the money," Jacob said, smiling sadly and shaking his head.

Edward snickered behind me. "But Jake loves a challenge. I think he's 'up' for it."

Jacob and I both laughed at Edward's astute observation. He certainly was _up_, that was for sure. Jacob's beautiful boner hadn't deflated one iota during our conversation. And what slid into me this time felt amazing: hot, hard, and thick.

He threw his head back and cursed. "Oh, fuck, this is going to kill me. You're so tight and hot. God, that feels good!" He groaned painfully.

It felt good to me, too. He was dark satin, smooth and rock hard. He stretched me wider than any man ever had. I squeezed my pelvic muscles around him as he pushed slowly in and out, latching on to his hard shaft and gripping him as tightly as I could. He groaned deep and low in his throat, almost a growl.

"Jake." Edward's soft admonishment drifted over my shoulder. "Don't do it."

Jacob's eyes flipped to behind my shoulder. "I'm good. I got it," he said, his breathing heavy and quick. He pulled out, which I didn't like. I protested by raising my hips up off the bed and whimpering again. I wanted him inside of me, not out.

"Just give me a minute, Bella," Jacob gasped painfully.

I watched him close his eyes and take a series of deep breaths, while Edward planted soft kisses up the side of my neck and kneaded my breasts with his long fingers. Then a series of sexy groans slipped out from between Jacob's clenched lips; he gripped himself tightly and squeezed, threw his head back and groaned again breathlessly. I waited expectantly for him to cum all over my stomach, but he didn't.

"Almost feels almost as good," Edward murmured in my ear as I watched Jacob have one of those almost-orgasms right in front of me. It was the sexiest thing I'd ever witnessed.

"Amen to that." Jacob snickered breathlessly, grinning.

"Let's change positions," Edward said into in my ear from behind.

A frown crossed Jake's features, quick and then it was gone. So quick, in fact, that I wondered if I'd even seen it.

"Not a problem." Jake shrugged and backed away from the bed to give us room to move.

"I want you on your knees and facing me," Edward instructed softly.

I glanced at Jacob to gauge his reaction. He'd narrowed his dark eyes and was shooting Edward the strangest look, like he was a weird alien life form that had materialized into our evening out of thin air. _What is going on?_

I allowed Edward to maneuver my body how he wanted it. I ended up on my knees, straddling his hips with my ass stuck up the air—easy access for Jacob standing behind me, but easy access for Edward, as well. No sooner had I gotten myself settled than Edward pulled my face down to his. His lips went to work on mine: deep kisses, long pulls at my mouth that left me breathless. His fingers tangled in my hair, stroked my neck and arms, my breasts. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. I couldn't keep up.

Then I felt Jacob slide into me from behind. I groaned in Edward's mouth. He pulled away. Our eyes locked. A storm was raging in his cloudy gray eyes, a dark, threatening tempest. Lust in its purest form.

I closed my eyes and from that moment on, the world around me disappeared. It was all about sensation now. Jacob's strokes were slow, deep and steady, but incredibly hard. Not rough, just intense and grinding. He never broke his rhythm, and Edward's hands never stopped their perpetual movement. His mouth never strayed from mine for very long. I'd never experienced anything like this in my entire life, and probably never would again. I loved it.

Then Jacob's thrusts suddenly became more urgent. His hands clutched hard at my hips as he pumped in and out, jostling my entire body with each deep penetration. My breasts bounced, but Edward's eager hands cupped them protectively, squeezing and rubbing his thumbs over my nipples as Jacob pounded away.

Then sensation turned to sound: Jacob's hips slapping hard against my ass; his deep-throated groans; Edward's moans pouring forth into my mouth as he kneaded my breasts, as his hand traveled down my stomach to the crevice between my legs, as he rubbed his fingers hard over my aching clit; Jacob's harsh curses as his orgasm neared; my high-pitched whimpers as Jacob pushed me closer; Edward's frantic whispered pleas for me to touch him, stroke him, squeeze him hard. I wrapped my hand tightly around Edward's shaft and the sound that came out of his throat, along with the hard grinding circles his fingers were making between my cleft propelled me over the edge. My jagged cries filled the room as I came. Jacob followed right behind me, his hoarse vulgarities overpowering mine.

I opened my eyes. Edward was staring at me. His eyes were a dark steely gray, and what I saw in them sent something that felt like an electrical charge coursing through my body. It wasn't lust I was seeing in his eyes. It was something else, but I didn't have time to think about the strangeness of his gaze before I found myself being roughly rolled over onto my back. He balanced his upper body on his palms, kneed my thighs apart and plunged deep inside of me in one long stroke. He was massive and filled me completely like no man ever had before, but I had no time to savor the fullness. He started to pound away at my body, eyes shut tight and the grimace of pleasure etched on his beautiful, angular face.

I did the only thing I could do: I held on for dear life as this man used me roughly. This was what it felt like to be fucked and fucked hard. No, not fucked, _ravaged._ I'd read so many cliched romance novels where women described being ravaged by their men, but I'd never had a true grasp of what they'd meant. Now I did. Edward pushed his cock into me so deep and hard that it was almost painful. I said almost because a strange sensation was starting to blossom deep inside of me with each of his penetrating thrusts. A spring that I hadn't even known I possessed was coiled tight deep within my body and Edward was attacking it with lustful vengeance. Whatever this strange feeling was, it something completely different from anything I'd ever felt before.

Then Edward opened his eyes and fixed them on mine, never faltering in his bombardment of my body. I kept my gaze focused on his. The sounds coming out of his mouth were animalistic and wild, his eyes dark and barely holding their focus.

"Bella," he gasped. His voice was pained and sounded desperate, yet was filled with a longing I'd never heard in a man's voice before, certainly not in Mike's.

I laid my palm tenderly against his cheek. His harsh, gasping breaths quickened. His eyes shut briefly and then immediately snapped back open. The coil inside of me was drawn incredibly tight now. I wanted more and I wanted it harder. As if he could read my mind, Edward deepened his thrusts. I gasped aloud at each assault, but it wasn't from pain.

"Bella. Oh God!"

Edward's entire body trembled as he released inside of me. That coil snapped and he took me with him. Our screams echoed in the quiet bedroom: mine high and strident, his deep and hoarse. The orgasm was powerful and it utterly consumed me. My previous O's were child's play compared to this one.

When it was over for both of us, he gathered me up in his arms and buried his face in my hair. Panting from exertion, he whispered endearments in my ear, and spoke my name with such longing that it made my heart ache. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him close.

_This man is hurting. _ I was shocked when the thought popped into my head, and I had no idea where it had come from, but I felt his need in our tight embrace. I heard loneliness and longing in his voice when spoke my name. Edward's quiet aloofness of before was no longer a mystery. It was a mask that hid a deep emotional wound.

Finally he pulled away and gazed down at me with his soulful eyes. He tenderly pushed some strands of hair away from my eyes, and stroked my cheek with his thumb.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked softly.

I shook my head. "No, not at all."

He smiled and it took my breath away. He gave me a gentle, loving kiss and then he rolled off of me onto his side of the bed.

"Some water?"

I raised my head to find Jacob leaning against the doorjamb leading into the kitchen, clad only in his nylon boxers, grinning and holding a bottle of water in each hand.

"Yes," I gasped thankfully.

He tossed one to Edward and handed me mine. While we drank, he opened a drawer in the bedside table and grabbed a hand towel, tossing it in my lap.

"You might need this."

Might? I'd definitely need it, as I'd never had two men's cum in my body at the same time. I gave Jacob a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

I glanced at Edward. He was stretched out on his side of the bed with his eyes closed, the half-empty bottle of water propped up against his naked hip. He was beautiful and looked so relaxed and content. I had to forcibly tear my gaze away from him.

"Where's the bathroom?" Jacob gave me directions and I slid hastily off the bed. "Be back in a few minutes."

I dashed out of the room with my small hand towel, hoping I'd make it to the bathroom before I leaked cum all over the elegant tiled floors.

* * *

><p><strong>JACOB…<strong>

Edward was sprawled out on the bed, his pale skinny ass drowning in the afterglow, an expression of utter bliss on his face. He'd just had the fuck of his life. I was damned happy for him.

"I'm cuttin' out," I said as soon as Bella was safely down the hall and out of earshot.

Edward bolted up into a sitting position, eyes blazing. "Like hell you are!"

I searched the floor for my clothes while he glared at me. "You and Bella need some privacy."

Edward scooted off the bed and yanked his boxers up from the floor, jabbing his feet into them angrily. "This a job, not a fucking date. We don't need privacy!"

I shook my head at Edward's naiveté. "You've never done a face-to-face since we've been working together. Don't think I didn't notice that. And from the sound of things, that was some of the best sex you've ever had. You're digging her, and I'm not going to step on your dick with this one. I'm out."

He jabbed a finger in my direction, his lips pressed together in an angry flat line. "You leave and I swear to God, I'll write your ass up."

"Fine. Write me up. Ditch me as your partner, whatever you have to do, but I'm not staying," I said, shrugging. "You guys need some time alone."

"You aren't allowed to leave unless the client asks you to leave. You know the rules. Bella could call and complain on _both_ of us if you leave."

"She wouldn't do that. She's not that kind of person and you know it."

He jerked his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing straight up in messy spikes. I felt sorry for him, in a way. He was always so controlled on jobs, and made the whole 'keeping a distance' thing look effortless, but this one had totally gotten away from him. He was an emo mess, but I knew better than to point that out to him. The last thing Bella needed to see when she got back from freshening up was her two 'professionals' rolling around on the bedroom floor kicking the shit out of each other.

"Jake," Edward dropped his voice to an angry whisper. "I can't get involved with her. You _know _that. I'm _asking _you to stay. Please, don't leave me here alone with her. _Please_."

I sighed inwardly at Edward's stubbornness. She was _exactly_ what he needed in his life, so much better than what he currently had. I'd never seen him so enraptured by another woman, except for…

I mentally shook off the image that had started to form in my head. I refused to go there. Thinking of _her_, and the emotional hold she had over him just made me angry and very sad at the same time. He deserved so much more, someone like Bella. I could tell he wanted her, but he was scared.

"Fine. I'll stay," I said with a sigh. _Just not all night. _

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I owe you one."

I acknowledged his thanks in silence, wondering if he'd thank me tomorrow or rip my head off instead. This job had turned into something neither one of us had expected when we'd agree to it. Bella was a sweet girl. I liked her and she was definitely someone I could have fun with, but Edward had fallen hard for her and whether he was willing to admit it or not, he needed someone like her in his life. I wasn't going to get in his way. In fact, I was going to do everything in my power to make it happen. He was going to be highly pissed at me when I left later on, but I'd worry about his temper tantrum later.


	6. Chapter 6: Scared

**Chapter 6: **** Scared**

_**BELLA…**_

"Damn, who let the 'ho out?" I mumbled, as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom vanity mirror.

My hair was a tangled rat's nest. My lips looked like someone had gotten carried away with the collagen, and OMG, was that a hickey forming on my neck? When did _that_ happen? I pushed my hair out of the way and leaned closer to the mirror to double check, while trying to remember exactly when Edward had managed to give me the Mark of the Slut without me knowing it.

_Yeah, baby! Gotta love that Edward. He knows how to suck it and fuck it!_

I frowned in disgust. I seriously needed a Harlot Exorcism to get that skank's voice out of my head. I put that on my list of things to do, _if_ I survived the night.

I found a brand new hairbrush, still in the package, inside one of the vanity drawers. A curious look underneath the sink revealed a box of douches. _Yes! _With a mental fist pump, I set to work at getting myself back into some semblance of 'nice girl' order. Minutes later, my hair was smooth and draped nicely over my bare shoulders, which served to hide my Whore Hematoma from public view, and I was sparkling clean, both inside and out. A row of fluffy white bathrobes hanging on the back of the closed door was like icing on the cake. I wrapped myself inside of one and sighed with contentment. I felt like a million bucks with all that soft Egyptian cotton snuggled around me. Leather and Lace sure knew how to pamper its customers.

I padded barefoot down the hall and into the kitchen to find Jacob laying out a smorgasbord of food on the table while Edward watched. There was a block of cheese, crackers, bottled juices as well as a tray of raw fruit.

_Energy food, Bella. Menage-a-toi's are fuck-hard work._

"Are you hungry?" Chill bumps flew across my skin at the sound of Edward's soft voice.

"I could eat," I said, sending him a small, shy smile. He smiled back and it felt like there was only the two of us in the room.

"I see you found the bathrobes," Jacob commented, taking a seat at the table.

He was sitting on my right, while Edward was on my left, and both were distracting me with their lack of clothing. Jacob was in his nylon form-fitting boxers and shirtless. Edward had on similar skin-tight boxers and his dress shirt, which was completely unbuttoned and exposing his beautiful chest and abs for my perusal.

"They're wonderful," I said, quickly tearing my eyes away from Edward's chest. I sighed and gathered the folds of the fluffy robe tightly around me.

"Don't even think of nicking one," Jacob said. "They'll dock our pay _double_, and we'll be put on a two-job suspension."

"Really?" I gasped. "They'd penalize you guys for something a client did?"

When Jacob nodded, I reassured them that I would never steal anything from the apartment. It seemed unfair to hold them responsible for an unethical client's behavior, but apparently, Leather and Lace wasn't as friendly a company as it appeared to be on paper.

We ate in companionable silence. I couldn't believe that I was sitting between two gorgeous men, both of whom I'd just had sex with, and I didn't feel at all uncomfortable. In fact, I felt like I'd known them for years instead of hours.

Edward was popping grapes into his mouth one-by-one, his bronze hair sticking out in all directions. I couldn't help but smile. He was an adorable mess, in a GQ, fuck-hawt sexy kind of way. I reached out to smooth his hair down and his hand froze in mid-air, the grape never making it to his lips.

"Your hair…" I said in explanation, and then giggled. "It's a mess."

His cheeks flushed pink—which made him even more adorable—but he allowed me to smooth down the worst of his unruly locks.

Jake guffawed as I worked at Edward's hair. "You should see him first thing in the morning. Fucked-up hair, stubble everywhere, his hand down his boxers scratching his balls and grouching about why there isn't any coffee."

Edward launched his uneaten grape across the table, hitting Jacob square in the face. A mini-food fight ensued that had me laughing until my sides hurt. These two professional escorts with their expensive clothes and their repertoire of smooth seductive moves had turned into two little mischievous boys right in front of my eyes. It was endearing. Jacob finally called a halt to the fight, protesting against the amount of good food that was going to waste.

"So, you two live together?" I asked, completely fascinated by this new tidbit of information.

Edward nodded. "We share a condo and the expenses. I have the bottom floor-"

"-because of that ten ton grand piano that he has," Jacob interjected. "And I have the top floor-"

"-where his ten ton Lego monstrosity is set up in the room right above my bedroom," Edward interrupted. He shook his head sadly. "So, if you hear in the news about some poor guy being suffocated to death in his sleep by thousands of Legos, you'll know it was me."

"My Legos aren't heavy enough to break through the floor," Jacob protested, rolling his eyes. "I'm majoring in structural engineering, remember? And I pulled a solid "A" out of my Structural Reliability and Risk Analysis class."

"Can I ask you guys a question?" I asked, interrupting their good-natured bickering.

"Ask away," Edward answered, appearing grateful for the change of subject.

"You promise you won't get mad?"

"You've already called us prostitutes and we didn't get mad about _that_," Jacob pointed out with a snicker.

He _had _to bring that up. It hadn't been one of my finer tactful moments, but this one coming up wasn't going to be much better.

"Are you two…uhm…you know…?" I faltered, not able to push that final word out of my mouth.

Their reaction was immediate. Jacob moaned and then dropped his forehead to the table with a loud thunk, like he'd just had a massive aneurism. Edward groaned painfully and raked his hand through his hair, messing it up again. Uh oh. They _were_ mad. Finally, Jacob raised his head and looked across the table at Edward. They both sighed and shook their heads.

"I'm sorry. It's really none of my business. Just forget I asked."

"No, it's no problem." Edward chuckled. "You just have no idea how often we get asked that question."

Jacob snorted. "Like I'd let him get near me with that thing? That would be like someone jabbing a telephone pole up my ass. Not my idea of fun."

I had to inwardly laugh at Edward's mortified expression. "Shut up, Jake, god."

"Actually, I admire you women," he continued, ignoring Edward and his annoyed frown. "You gals have to have nerves of steel to let him poke you with that-"

A big hunk of cheese flew through the air, hitting Jacob hard in the nose and stopping his penis diatribe in mid-sentence.

"For your information, I didn't hurt Bella. Did I?" he said, turning to me, and it wasn't a question he was asking, it was a confident statement of fact.

"No, you definitely didn't hurt me," I said, softly sighing like a goofy teenager who'd just been kissed for the first time.

Feeling fully vindicated, Edward smiled sweetly in Jacob's direction and then returned his attention to me.

"I've never felt anything like that in my entire life, and probably never will again," I added quietly.

Jacob snorted and then grinned. A warning look from Edward had him wisely keeping his thoughts to himself.

Edward reached out and stroked his long fingers tenderly down the side of my face. I waited for him to say something-a thank you, or perhaps an agreement that he hadn't felt anything like that either-but he didn't say anything. He just stared at me with his soulful blue-gray eyes, and tenderly stroked my cheek.

On impulse, I leaned forward and kissed him. His hand slid underneath my hair, and he returned my kiss with a quiet intensity. When we pulled apart, he smiled at me and then relaxed back into his chair. I glanced Jacob's way and he was staring down at the table, looking uncomfortable. For the first time since we'd had sex, things felt awkward. I decided to change the subject.

"I'm so curious as to how you guys ended up working for an escort service."

Now it was Edward's turn to stare into his lap while Jacob answered. "It's damned good money. I'm two years away from finishing up my Bachelor's degree and then I have graduate school. I'm paying as I go, so I'll be debt-free when I'm finished." He flashed me a cocky grin. "And let's be honest. I'm nothing but a horn-dog, so it's the perfect profession for me, at least for now."

Edward laughed softly, nodding in agreement.

"What about you?" I asked, directing my question to Edward, whose good humor instantly evaporated into thin air.

They shot each other a quick look across the table. They had the eye thing going again, another silent conversation.

"I needed the money," Edward answered simply.

Jacob's jaw noticeably tightened. He tapped his index finger repeatedly on the table top and stared silently at his bottle of juice. He looked upset. Edward was idly rolling a grape around in the fruit tray and avoiding my eyes. His answer was a non-answer. Everyone needed money, but not everyone turned to prostitution to get it. Something was off. I had that awkward feeling again, in spades.

"I'm s-sorry," I stuttered. "I'm being rude. Your personal lives are really none of my business. Why don't we change the subject?"

"Do you play an instrument?" Edward asked, doing just that.

"Pffffft, no, unless those plastic toy pianos count," I answered with a sarcastic laugh. Then we spent the next several minutes discussing music. Edward played the piano as well as the violin, guitar, saxophone and trumpet. He wanted to master the French horn, but hadn't found the time to devote to it.

"I'm pretty damned good at playing with _myself_," Jacob joked. He laughed when I jabbed him in the shoulder. "I've always wanted to learn how to play the guitar, though," he continued seriously. "I've just never had time."

Edward's eyes had narrowed suspiciously in Jacob's direction. "I never knew you wanted to learn the guitar. I would have taught you if I'd known."

"Like I said, I don't have time," Jacob answered smoothly, and then looked my way. "Speaking of time, I wondered if I could ask a favor of you, Bella?"

I shrugged, completely taken off guard by his request. "Sure."

"I have this really big project due Monday in my Nonlinear Mechanical Vibrations class…"

I couldn't stop the giggle. "Oooooh, mechanical vibrations. Sounds dirty."

Jacob gave me an adorable crooked grin. "I only _wish_ it were about vibrators, but it's not. It deals with chaotic dynamics and analysis. Anyway, I have to make a working model to demonstrate a NMV failure. I'm almost finished, but if I could cut out of here early and get a good night's sleep, I could get up bright and early in the morning and finish it tomorrow. Then I'd have all day Sunday to write the paper that goes with it."

"I thought you finished that model _yesterday_," Edward said slowly and pointedly. He was staring Jacob down across the table, and it was _not_ a happy stare. Something was going on with these two.

"No Edward, that was my _Stochastic _dynamics analysis project. Totally different class."

The bones in Edward's jaw visibly clenched. He was obviously angry at Jacob, but for what?

"Technically, I can't leave unless you ask me to," Jacob continued, looking back at me. "And if the company found out we'd get into a lot of trouble, but I wouldn't ask if it wasn't really important."

"Jacob, it's okay. I understand, and I wouldn't dream of insisting you stay when you have college work to do. That's way more important than this," I insisted. "Go home. I won't say anything."

"Excuse me. I need to go to the bathroom." Edward shot up from the table, nearly knocking over his chair, and stalked out of the room. _What is going on here?_

"Is he upset that you're leaving?"

Jacob nodded.

"Why?"

He sighed deeply and leaned forward, his hand snaking across the table to grasp mine. "You're a special girl. It's been a very long time since we've had a client like you. You're innocent, sweet, beautiful, and you've treated us both with respect, which is something we don't get a lot of in this line of work."

I felt a blush creeping up my neck. I started to object to all of the compliments, but he quickly laid a finger on my lips and shushed me.

"You and Edward obviously have something going on, and I don't need to be here. In fact, I'm glad he went to the bathroom. I wanted to apologize to you before I left."

"Apologize? Why?"

He looked away, took a deep breath and then met my gaze with those dark, smoldering eyes, his characteristic good-humor noticeably gone. "I regret that I…that we…" He sighed and continued. "I'm sorry that we…I mean, _you and I_… had sex. If I'd known that you two were hitting it off, I would have never done it. I feel really bad about that." His eyes slid away from mine and down to the table.

My heart melted. I wondered if Edward had any idea what a wonderful friend he had in Jacob.

"Don't feel bad. Your birthday present was wonderful. _Very_ nice."

"But Edward's was nicer," he said, chuckling under his breath, his dark eyes sparkling with laughter again.

I grinned. "No offense, but yeah."

"None taken."

His toothy grin was back. The awkwardness in the room was completely gone. If anything, I felt a sad sort of regret. Jacob was a sweet guy. I could easily see myself with him. Who couldn't? He was so easy going and full of energy, intelligent but quick to laugh. I imagined that Jacob Black lived every day of his life to the fullest. Whoever ended up stealing his heart would be a lucky girl, but that girl wasn't destined to be me.

"I'm going to head out now," he said. As he started to stand, I grabbed onto his forearm to stop him. I leaned forward, intending to give him a goodbye kiss, but at the last moment he turned his face to the side. Instead, he touched his lips very gently to my forehead.

"Be patient with him, Bella. He's scared."

And with those puzzling words of advice, he left.

* * *

><p>I set about the task of putting away the food while I waited on Edward to return from the bathroom. Jacob was gone, but his parting words still echoed inside my head. <em>He's scared. <em> What in the world could Edward be afraid of? I ran the possibilities through my mind as I cleaned up the kitchen.

It couldn't be me. There was certainly nothing about _me_ that would even begin to frighten a man like Edward. He was incredibly talented and good-looking, so sophisticated and charming. I wasn't in the man's league.

So, it had to be a case of relationship jitters. I'd bet my life that he'd been hurt very badly, and was just scared of being hurt again. But, the man seemed so lonely. There'd been no mistaking the longing I'd heard in his voice during the sex. The way he'd whispered my name, it had been heartbreaking to hear. If he was that lonely, why would he be afraid to reach out to someone? I couldn't figure it out, but perhaps the answer would reveal itself before the evening was done. And even if it didn't, even if I never discovered the mystery of Edward Cullen, I was going to make sure that he enjoyed the rest of his evening, because as far as I was concerned, this night was no longer about me.

* * *

><p><em><strong>EDWARD….<strong>_

"I'm going to kill that lying piece of shit."

Cursing out my so-called friend was just a waste of energy at this point. I'd deal with _him_ in the morning. Right now I needed to figure out how in the hell I was going to make it through the rest of the evening.

_Not evening, job! This is a JOB, not a fucking date. Remember that!_

I slapped my palms down onto the marble sinks and cursed beneath my breath. Raising my head, I forced myself to stare at my reflection in the vanity mirror. I hated what I saw. I'd been told that I was handsome, that I had beautiful eyes, a sculpted jaw, and 'sex hair', a description which I found to be completely ridiculous. I didn't see any of those things. I saw a prostitute who screwed women for money. I dressed in nice clothes, was trained to say and do all the right things and to project an air of sophistication, but that didn't change the fact that I sold my body for sex.

Leather and Lace had taken possession of my soul.

I shook my head and cursed at my own stupid inability to deal with the truth. Leather and Lace hadn't taken anything from me that I hadn't freely given them.

_I want out._

I immediately felt guilty for thinking such a thing. No matter how much I hated what I did, I couldn't leave Leather and Lace. Not as long as…

_Don't think about that right now._

I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed yet again. I didn't have time to indulge in a Let's-Feel-Sorry-For-Poor-Little-Edward pity party. Bella was waiting for me in the other room.

_A client is waiting for you in the other room! A client, damn you! Keep your focus! _

"This has nothing to do with _her_," I whispered to my reflection. "That part of my life is completely separate from this. This is just work."

If I kept telling myself that lie would it eventually become the truth?

I closed my eyes and took some very deep breaths. I needed to bring up that wall that kept me a safe distance from all of the emotional bullshit. I needed to shut that shit completely down if I was going to make it until morning.

I met my own gaze in the mirror and focused on getting my mind where it needed to be. In the space of two minutes, Edward Cullen, the man, was gone. In his place was one of Leather & Lace's most valued escorts, ranked third in pay _and_ in popularity and with a client list my co-workers would kill to have.

_That_ was who I was.

_Remember, this is just a job, Edward._

* * *

><p><em><strong>BELLA…<strong>_

"Hey."

His soft and sultry voice ripped me out of my daydreams. Edward was doing one of his sexy leans against the kitchen door jamb. The muscles deep between my thighs clenched hard at the sight of him. He'd smoothed out his hair, and shed his dress shirt. He was now wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe just like mine. I wondered if his boxers were lying on the bathroom floor.

"Hey yourself," I responded softly. "Are you all right?"

He smiled. "I'm fine."

He crossed the few feet that separated us, and offered me his hand. I took it. He gently lifted me from my chair and pulled me into his arms. His hand slid underneath my hair as he drew close. He trailed soft kisses along the side of my face. My eyes drifted shut as I breathed in the scent of this beautiful man.

"What do you want to do?" he whispered in my ear. I shivered when his lips touched my neck.

What did I want to do? Hell, I wanted what any woman lucky enough to be in Edward's arms would want. I wanted _him._ I wanted to kiss him, touch him, and let him make love to me for the rest of the night. But, I'd made a promise to myself that this night was not going to be about me anymore. I was _not_ going to fall victim to his professional seduction this time around.

I pulled back so that I could see his face, but especially his eyes, because Edward spoke with his eyes. I'd watched him have whole conversations with them with Jacob. I'd seen them sparkle when he'd laughed, turn a soft blue when he'd kissed me, and morph into a gray storm when he'd made love to me. So, I focused on his eyes as I offered a suggestion, something that Mike would never do with me.

"I want to go back to bed and cuddle for awhile."

It was quick, but I still saw it: a flicker of something strange in his eyes. Shock? Fear? It was hard to tell, because just as quickly as I saw it, it was gone.

"You're in luck. I pulled a solid "A" out of Leather & Lace's Cuddling class." He laughed softly and guided me from the kitchen into the bedroom.

I laughed along with him, but I was secretly gloating. My mother had always told me that a girl could learn more about a man from his pillow talk than from anything else, even sex. We'd already had the sex, so now it was time to solve the mystery of Edward Cullen.

Standing beside the bed, he dropped his bathrobe to the floor. I'd been right. His boxers were lying in the corner of the bathroom. He helped me off with my robe, and it joined his in a fluffy white pile at our feet.

He tossed the pillows off of the bed and onto the carpet, turned down the bedding, and beckoned for me to join him. We crawled beneath the crisp sheets and snuggled up in each other's arms until we were both comfortable.

Over his shoulder, I saw the distant flash of lightning. There was a storm brewing in the night sky, but it was still too far away from us to hear the thunder. I turned my attention back to the stunningly beautiful man who was curled up against me and keeping me warm. What should I ask him first? There was so much I wanted to know about him, but it was probably best to start simple.

"What's your middle name?"

A small frown creased his brow, but he answered anyway.

"Anthony."


	7. Chapter 7: Sex Me

**Author Note:** This chapter was based on the song _Sex Me_ by R. Kelly.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Sex Me<strong>

**BELLA…**

"When is your birthday?"

His eyes narrowed just a fraction, but he answered without any hesitation. "June 20th."

I didn't know any Geminis_. _I couldn't wait to read up on his sign. Maybe I'd learn a little bit more about what made him tick.

"Where were you born?"

"This is _your_ birthday. This night isn't about me." He smiled and playfully tapped the end of my nose with his index finger. "It's about _you."_

"Well, technically, it's not my birthday anymore." I smiled and tapped the end of _his _nose. "It's after midnight."

He guided my hand to his lips and delivered a tender kiss to my knuckles. He smiled again as his eyes drifted to mine. "You're splitting hairs, love."

_Love. _That one word made my heart skip, my stomach flutter, and my hooha clench hard, all at the same time. I knew he hadn't meant it the way I was taking it, but the way he'd said it had me wondering what it would be like to be Edward's 'love' every moment of the day.

"Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it," he continued before I could argue my point. "Anything you desire."

"Anything?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Okay. For the rest of the night I want to pretend that _I _work for Leather and Lace and that you're my client, and we're going to do whatever _you_ want for a change."

I felt his body tense. "No. I'm sorry, I can't do that."

"You said you'd do anything, and this is what I want," I insisted, surprised at the determination I heard in my own voice. I'd never been this demanding in my entire life. Maybe later I'd try to figure out what had gotten into me, when I didn't have Edward's mesmerizing gaze messing up my thought processes.

"It's against the rules. I'm here for _you_, not the other way around."

"To hell with the rules."

He shook his head.

I brushed my fingers through his hair, and then trailed them lightly down his cheek. "There's no one here but us. What you say or do with me will go no further than this room. I promise you that."

He shut his eyes and shook his head again. When he finally opened them there was no mistaking the fearful uncertainty I saw in his eyes. I didn't understand its source, and that was so frustrating.

I rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip. "Tell me what you want."

"I can't," he whispered, so softly that I almost didn't catch it.

I took his face in my hands and stared into his frightened eyes. "Yes. You. Can," I said adamantly. "I want the rest of this night to be about _you._"

While he silently considered me, I ran the possibilities through my mind:

1) Blow job: I wasn't the Oral Sex Goddess by any stretch of the imagination, but I wasn't a slouch either. Mike had loved getting head, so I had a little experience in that area.

2) Anal sex: I'd never done it, but if that was what Edward asked for then I'd give it to him in a heartbeat.

3) S & M: _Please God, don't let him be into pain._

4) Dom/Sub: I didn't understand it, but if that was what gave him pleasure then I'd spank him, tie him up, gag him, or let him do the same to me. Whatever he wanted.

5) I couldn't come up with a number 5. Anything beyond number 4 had to be too kinky for me to even contemplate, anyway.

_Woohoo! Hands behind your head and spread 'em, baby! _

I ignored my inner nympho. Now was _not_ the time to break out the fuzzy pink handcuffs and go all 'Girls Gone Wild' on the man. Jacob knew his friend a lot better than I did, and he was right. Edward was scared.

"Edward…?"

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. I waited anxiously, my eyebrows raised in expectation. The bones in his jaw clenched and then relaxed. I couldn't understand why it was so difficult for him to tell me what he wanted. Most men (Mike included) had no problem whatsoever making their wants known. Why was Edward so different?

"I want you to make love to me, and then I want to fall asleep in your arms," he said softly.

* * *

><p><em><strong>EDWARD…<strong>_

_What happened to your trademark cold-as-ice-control you've always been so proud of?!_

It was those brown eyes that had made me open my mouth and let that romantic shit come out. I'd always been a sucker for chocolate eyes. If she kept looking at me the way she was looking at me right at that moment, I was going to start babbling my whole life story to her. It didn't help matters that she was incredibly beautiful, in an innocent sort of way. But, why had I called her 'love'? Where had _that_ come from? I'd never called anyone 'love' in my entire life.

"Your wish is my command," she whispered, brushing her lips across mine.

Every hair on my body stood up in anticipation. I wanted this. I wanted _her, _but it was wrong. That nagging voice inside my head was screaming it at me. _You shouldn't be doing this!_ But damn it, all I did was give, give, give, all the fucking time! I wanted to get for a change. Was that wrong? Hell yes, it was wrong. _You're a pathetic, selfish bastard, Edward. You have no right to this. _But every rational thought, every argument against it, disappeared when she looked at me with those beautiful eyes and offered herself to me so unselfishly.

Her lips made a lazy journey over every inch of my face. "Don't do anything for _me_," she whispered in my ear. "This is all for you. Tell me what you want, and then just lay back and enjoy it."

I stopped arguing with my conscience. I ignored the guilt. I'd deal with that tomorrow. Right now, I wanted Bella, wanted her more than I'd wanted _any_ woman in a very long time.

I did as she asked. I told her what I desired and she seemed surprised. I didn't want rough or kinky; I got enough of that in my job. All I wanted from her was normal, simple, quiet lovemaking. I wanted to be touched and kissed. I wanted to feel her fingertips glide across my skin. I wanted her mouth everywhere on my body, tender kisses in places that had never been kissed before. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the feel of her hands as they explored my body. I moaned when she kissed me in an erogenous zone, and then laughed and wriggled when she found one of my many ticklish spots.

I stopped her before she could take me into her mouth. Oral sex wasn't what I wanted from her. Too impersonal. Blow jobs were easy to come by in my line of work. What I wanted the most from her was what I'd fought so hard to avoid for the past four years: intimacy. I never looked into the eyes of my clients during sex. _Never._ But tonight, I wanted Bella's eyes.

She asked which position I preferred, and there was only one that would give me what I craved. I wanted her on top where I could watch her love me, where I could pull her close and gaze deep into her eyes as she moved.

I didn't even try to hold back the sound that came out of my throat when she slowly put me inside of her. She was warm, tight, and for the first time in a very long while, I felt I was where I belonged, where I was meant to be. Not where I was now.

The guilt slammed into me hard, but I violently pushed it away. I deserved this.

_You don't deserve this._

I'd made so many sacrifices the past four years. I deserved this night with her.

_You're selfish._

My self-flagellation came to an end when she started to move her hips in slow, sensual circles and long, slick pulls on my shaft. She closed her eyes and I immediately objected with a soft plea for her to open them and look at me. She did as I asked and never once did her eyes leave mine as we made love.

Minutes later, I realized that things were moving too fast to suit me. "Stop," I gasped, stilling her hips with my hands. "Stop, please."

She froze. I fought a silent battle with my body's need for a physical release. That could wait. I wanted more of the closeness, more of the silky feel of her skin underneath my hands, more of her eyes before it ended. I gasped when she leaned forward, her long hair tickling my chest and making the battle I was fighting even harder. She smiled and I relaxed, the pressing need to cum slowly backing off.

"What's your favorite color?"

I laughed softly at the complete unexpectedness of her question. "It used to be blue, but now it's brown," I answered as I tenderly wove my fingers through her thick hair. "Yours?"

"It's used to be purple, but now it's blue…and gray: the color of your eyes," she answered.

She kissed me, a gentle, chaste kiss that sent a flood of emotions rushing through me, that feeling of closeness with another person that I'd thought was lost to me forever. Nothing Bella could have said to me could have been more perfect than her words. I'd been told many times by my clients that I had beautiful eyes, but the compliments had never meant anything to me. I didn't care about what strangers thought of me. A long time ago, _she_ had loved my eyes, and now Bella did, too. If only I could love them as well. If only I could bear to look in the mirror without avoiding my own gaze.

Bella raised her eyebrows in question, silently asking for permission to resume our lovemaking. I smiled and nodded. As she began moving her body, pulling me deep inside of her and then out in a slow, sensual rhythm, I slid my hands up her thighs and then her stomach, my palms coming to rest on her breasts, so soft, so pliant underneath my fingers, the perfect size. I cupped them both in my hands and stroked their hard, rosy tips with my thumbs in the same rhythm as hers. We locked eyes and continued our slow lovemaking. Minutes later I was moaning and begging her once again to stop. My lack of control frustrated me, and she picked up on that immediately.

"Why are you fighting it?" she asked, gently trailing her fingers down my cheek. "Just let it go."

Suddenly, I wondered if she was talking about sex, or if she'd somehow seen into my soul. How could she possibly know that letting go was the one thing I longed for the most, but was also the hardest thing for me to do?

"I just want it to last as long as possible."

I'd never have another night like this ever again. I wanted it to go on forever, and even though that was impossible, I wanted to delude myself, just for tonight, into thinking that it was.

"What's your favorite food?" I asked, smiling crookedly at her surprised reaction.

She fluffed my hair with her fingers and smiled back. "Mushroom ravioli. Yours?"

"Lasagna," I answered, grinning. "With lots of meat. None of that vegetarian crap for me."

She chuckled seductively."Oooh, you're such a nutritional bad boy. So dangerous. I like that in a man."

We both laughed at her silliness. I pulled her down against my chest and enfolded her in my arms, holding her so tightly, trying desperately to hold onto the intimacy that was blossoming between us. She was beautiful, loving and warm, talented but not cocky, and shy, but confident at the most surprising moments. She was everything I loved and wanted in a woman.

We took a break from the lovemaking and just kissed for awhile, our bodies still joined together at my hips. Each deep kiss sent a surge of blood into my shaft and made my cock jump inside of her. For some ridiculous reason, we found that funny, giggling like idiots every single time it happened. It had been so long since I'd had fun with a woman in bed, and I was loving every minute of it.

Then, one unexpected moment, our eyes met and held. Without speaking a word, we knew the fun was over. Our laughter stopped and the serious lovemaking began. It was different this time around. I was the passive one, lying completely at the mercy of my lover. Bella had morphed into this beautiful, sensual and intense woman, a sexy, brown-haired goddess with flawless, sweat-slicked skin and hard, muscular thighs pressed tight against my body. I rested my hands on her hips as she rode me, closed my eyes and listened with growing pleasure to the sounds of good sex: the moist-sounding noise of me sliding in and out of her wetness; the soft slap of her ass against my groin; her whispered moans; my soft profanity.

"Open your eyes," she gasped breathlessly.

I forced them open and concentrated on her face. God, she was fucking beautiful. So beautiful.

"Belllllaaaaaa." I growled her name deep in my throat as my release surged up my cock. "Oh God, I love this. I love this," I gasped as the end neared.

I'd forgotten what it felt like to actually make love with a woman, but Bella had brought all of the memories back. I couldn't hold it any longer. I erupted inside of her with a force that stunned me, filling her body not only with my semen, but also with my love, and so much joy that I couldn't hold it in. Words poured out of my mouth as I came. She held me close and tight until it was over, whispering in my ear and urging me to let go.

I finally pulled out of her arms and collapsed back onto the bed in complete bliss. The entire world was one huge glowing orb of sexual contentment. Not even the sound of the storm outside or the flashing of the lightning reflected against the windows of the bedroom disturbed my tranquility. It wasn't until the afterglow had almost faded that reality slammed into me: Bella hadn't come with me.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured, ashamed of my selfishness. I hoped she stayed tucked underneath my arm and didn't try to look up at me. I felt bad enough without having to look into her eyes and have her see the inadequacy in mine.

"For what?" she asked, softly snorting in amusement.

"You didn't enjoy it. You're supposed to enjoy it. That's my job."

She growled and rolled onto my chest, her brown eyes shooting angry darts directly into my pupils. "No, that's _my_ job. I work for Leather and Lace now, remember?" She smiled, letting me know that she really wasn't angry with me. "My job was to please _you,_ not the other way around."

"Still, it's not right," I said hesitantly.

It went against everything I knew in my heart to be true. Only a selfish asshole took for himself without giving back. I fought every day against the desire to please only myself. Leather and Lace had been my savior in that regard; they demanded selflessness from their employees, a cold detachment that had been perfect for me four years ago, and that I'd been only too happy to embrace.

"Edward." She shook her head and smiled with the indulgence of a mother scolding her son for some childish misdeed. "Pleasing you _does_ please me, but I can tell that you're feeling guilty, and I do _not_ want you to feel that way. Please don't," she pleaded. "I wanted to do this just for you or I wouldn't have offered."

That steel wall that was supposed to protect me from all of the emotional bullshit in my job was nothing but smoke and mirrors. Bella could see right through it and into my soul. It was a little unnerving to realize just how easily she could read me, but I seemed to have the same ability with her. I could tell by her eyes and by her voice that she really wasn't upset, that she really meant it when she'd said that pleasing me pleased her.

"Thank you," I offered quietly. Two very inadequate words for what Bella had done for me, but they were all I could muster.

She smiled and kissed me. "You're welcome," she murmured against my mouth.

We settled comfortably into each other's arms and watched through the windows as the storm raged, the rain beating a steady rhythm against the glass. It was strangely soothing.

"What's your favorite movie?" I asked, breaking the peaceful silence. I felt the pull of exhaustion creeping in, but I wanted to learn as much about her as I could before sleep took me away.

She sighed deeply, her body filling up the empty space between us. Then she exhaled contentedly. "Titanic."

I smiled, even though she couldn't see it. "A romance. I should have known that."

"What's yours?" she asked.

"You'll laugh."

"No, I won't," she insisted.

"Yes, you will. It's not your typical manly movie. Jake makes fun of me for watching it."

She rolled over onto her side to face me and frowned. "Who died and appointed Jake the ultimate film critic?"

I laughed, because I'd said something similar to him when he'd spent an entire weekend ribbing me about it.

"It's _The Lion King_. I love the musical score for that film. I could listen to it all day."

She smiled in wonderment. "I love that movie, too! And you're right, the music is amazing. Only a dummy wouldn't like The Lion King. What's wrong with Jacob?"

"He prefers films with lots of car crashes and blood flying everywhere," I said, chuckling and shaking my head at how different he and I were, despite the fact that we were the closest of friends.

"What's your favorite book?" she asked. And so it went, a back-and-forth exchange of meaningless information, the kind that brings two strangers even closer as they discover what they have in common. I was delighted to find that we were alike in more ways than we were different.

Eventually, the talking dwindled down to a sentence here and there and then finally to nothing. In the fog of approaching sleep, in that moment when reality becomes fuzzy and indistinct, a thought broke through the haze of my mind, as clear and bright as the sun bursting through the trees at dawn:

_I'm in love with Isabella Marie Swan._

* * *

><p><strong>BELLA...<strong>

I fought to stay awake. I was determined to be the last one to close my eyes. I wanted to watch him fall asleep in my arms just as he'd wanted. I needed to see his face as he slept, to see if he'd found peace in his dreams. My valiant efforts to stave off sheer exhaustion finally paid off. Edward drifted off with his head resting on my right breast and his long legs curled in with mine. Mike had always complained of my nearness, saying I was too hot or that he was uncomfortable. Edward was nothing like that insensitive asshole that I'd stupidly given my virginity to. Edward clung to me even in sleep. His arm, relaxed and heavy, lay draped across my stomach. I wouldn't have moved it for the world.

Our final lovemaking was some of the most beautiful moments I'd ever experienced. It didn't matter that I hadn't had an orgasm. If there was one thing that I'd learned from my night with Edward and Jacob it was that O's were a dime a dozen with the right man. What was _truly_ rare, and something to be cherished, was a man who gave himself to a woman completely, a man who let his vulnerability show, even though he might not have meant for it to.

Edward was a beautiful man—sexy, sophisticated and skilled at what he did—but I now knew that he was also incredibly lonely. It was hard for me to imagine a man who had obviously slept with more women than I could count being so desperate for affection, but that was what I'd sensed in him: an intense and desperate longing to be close to me. At times, it had almost seemed as if the actual sex had been less important to him than the kissing, the touching, and even the talking.

He sighed softly in his sleep. I felt his body completely relax against mine and it made me smile. His face was as stunning in sleep as it was when he was awake, even though his beautiful eyes were hidden from my view. He looked content and happy. Very carefully, so as not to wake him, I gently touched his hair, his cheek, his bottom lip. He didn't stir. He slept on in peace.

I relaxed my mind, letting the fatigue in my body finally win. As I drifted off, a voice whispered in my mind what my heart already knew:

_You're in love with Edward Anthony Cullen._

* * *

><p><strong>EDWARD…<strong>

My internal alarm clock woke me at precisely seven A.M., an hour before my contract with Isabella Marie Swan was to end. I didn't want to leave, but I had no choice. My night of selfish indulgence was over.

I carefully slid out from underneath the blankets without waking her. Quickly and quietly, I visited the bathroom and then gathered my clothes from the bedroom floor and dressed. I crossed the room to the elegant wooden nightstand on her side of the bed. The alarm clock was preset to nine A.M., the appointed time that all clients were expected to be cleared out of the company apartment.

From a hidden pocket in my suit jacket, I pulled out an official note card from Leather and Lace, which was the last correspondence we had with our clients. We were required to leave a short, handwritten note, a sort of souvenir of the evening. They'd even given us several passages we could use, each of which I had memorized to the letter and had used many times in the past.

Not this time. Bella was much more than the average client, so she was going to get much more than the standard "I had a swell time" note from me. I settled into the wing-backed chair and began to write, but not before taking one last look at her sleeping form for inspiration.

_Bella,_

_Last night meant more to me than you will ever know. You are a very special woman. Please know that about yourself and never doubt it, or your abilities. You're beautiful, talented and the most warm and loving person that I have met in a very, very long time. Your birthday was one of the top ten best nights of my life. I will never forget you, Bella Swan._

_Edward_

I folded the letter, slid it inside its matching envelope and propped it against the alarm clock. I stood by the bed and watched her sleep until the last possible moment. I ached to touch her one last time, to push back the strand of hair that lay across her cheek, to press my lips against hers and tell her goodbye, but I didn't dare. If she awoke, those brown eyes would be my undoing. I'd never leave.

With one last look at her peaceful, sleeping form, I turned and walked out of the room, out the front door and back into the empty arms of my life.


	8. Chapter 8: Reality

**"We must let go of the life we had planned, if we are to accept the life that is waiting for us." **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Reality<strong>

**BELLA…**

I drifted upwards, rising slowly to the surface, floating free and relaxed like a bit of flotsam being tossed about in the sea. A soft, musical chime pulled me up and away from my beautiful dreams. I broke free and opened my eyes to a strange room. Those few moments of disorientation didn't last long. The faint scent of a man, musky and spicy, still lingered in the sheets and made me smile.

_Edward._

I shot upright, ignoring the persistent chime of the alarm clock. His side of the bed was empty; the indentation where his head had lain on his pillow was still there. I searched the room, but he wasn't there.

"Edward?" I called aloud, but my voice was the only sound I heard, besides the stupid alarm clock. The apartment had that abandoned feel to it. No soft noises of another person trying to be quiet as they went about their morning routine, just an empty stillness.

I turned my attention back to the clock. Even though the ringing was a pleasant sound, it was getting on my nerves. There was an envelope propped against it with my name written across the front. Another envelope lay flat on the table in front of it-an official-looking letter from Leather and Lace similar to the one Edward had slid across the table to me at Bossa Nova.

I fumbled with the clock and finally shut the annoying thing off. I considered both of the envelopes and decided to read the official-looking one first. It was a company letter thanking me for using their service, letting me know that I had to be out of the apartment by 9:00 AM and that I was free to eat anything available in the kitchen. There was a web address provided so that I could complete an online satisfaction survey. It even included a telephone number for prepaid taxi service. I glanced at the clock. I only had forty minutes to get my ass out of their luxury digs.

I grabbed the other letter, the one that was obviously from Edward, the one I truly didn't want to read because I had a sick feeling I knew what was in it. I delayed as long as I could, spending way too much time studying my name and how he'd added a sweet curlicue to the "B", and how his "L's" were tall and slender just like he was. My name was as beautiful as the man who had written it.

Thirty-five minutes left. Shit. I opened it with a shaking hand and read.

_Bella,_

_Last night meant more to me than you will ever know. You are a very special woman. Please know that about yourself and never doubt it, or your abilities. You're beautiful, talented and the most warm and loving person that I have met in a very, very long time. Your birthday was one of the top ten best nights of my life. I will never forget you, Bella Swan._

_Edward_

"Oh, God," I whispered, the tears already forming and threatening to break free.

_I will never forget you, Bella Swan. _ That was goodbye. I was never going to see him again and it shocked me how much that hurt and how attached I'd gotten to him in just one night. I spent ten minutes bawling my eyes out until I was finally forced to drag myself out of bed and start getting dressed. I didn't want to get them into any trouble by staying longer than 9:00.

I wanted something to take with me. I needed a reminder that this night had really happened. I couldn't trust my memories. Memories were fickle and cruel; they faded with time. I needed something solid, something real. I thought about keeping his bathrobe that lay crumpled next to mine on the floor, but I remembered Jake's warning. They'd get a two-job suspension for that. I frantically searched the room for something I could keep, but there was nothing that wouldn't get them into trouble.

The room swam in front of my eyes, my tears making it almost impossible for me to find my clothes. I scooped up my cocktail dress from the floor and something fell out, plopping onto my bare feet. Edward's tie. It had lain hidden underneath my dress. He must have given up trying to find it. I grabbed it like it was a lifeline thrown out to sea to keep me from drowning. I pressed it to my face and breathed in his smell, breathed in my Edward, breathed in the scent of the man that I had fallen in love with in just one magnificent night, a man whom I would never see again.

* * *

><p><strong>JAKE…<strong>

Edward ambled into the kitchen and headed straight for the coffee pot. I slid Bella's contract back inside the manila envelope and watched him go about his morning routine, even though it was nearly noon. The man looked bad. He'd managed to scrape the stubble off of his face, but he was dressed like a bum, as usual: holey t-shirt, baggy jeans and scuffed Reeboks, fucked-up hair. He also looked like he hadn't had a wink of sleep. Hopefully that was because he'd spent the night having mind-blowing sex with Bella.

He sat down across from me and sipped at his coffee. "This tastes like shit."

Oh yeah, he was pissed at me. I'd have to watch my mouth and keep the sarcasm to a minimum or I'd risk getting a fist rammed down my throat. Edward was a pretty calm guy most of the time, but stress had a way of turning a normal person into a loose cannon in seconds, and Edward's middle name was stress these days. I'd only seen him get violent once in the two years I'd known him. With one punch, he'd laid a guy out cold on the floor because the idiot had made the bad decision to be a slacker that day and not do his job correctly. But, the guy had deserved it, so I couldn't fault Edward for going all MMA on him.

"Sorry. It's been sitting for three hours."

No reaction.

"So, what'd you and Bella do after I left?" I managed to keep my smirk to just a glimmer.

"Played checkers." Then he raised his eyes from his coffee and glared at me. "What the fuck do you _think _we did?"

I could see we weren't going to have any sort of civilized conversation about last night, so I moved on. "I just wanted you to know that I called the office this morning and had Bella removed from my client list. She's all yours, man."

He snorted bitterly and took another sip of the shitty coffee. "Don't know why you bothered. She'll never call again. She can't afford us."

I shifted my gaze to the innocuous manila envelope. "I took a closer look at her contract. Her friend Alice is not just your run-of-the-mill friend. She's Mary Alice Brandon, the only child of Dane L. Brandon of the DLB Group."

That got a reaction. He flicked his eyes in my direction in alarm. "The realtor?"

"The realtor _and_ architect _and_ all-around fat-cat mogul. He's built or owns half of this city. This postage stamp piece of concrete our condo is sitting on probably belongs to him. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that Daddy Warbucks' heiress daughter has a bank account bigger than your dick, and she likes to buy nice gifts for her friends. Bella's going to book us again, or just _you_. I guarantee it."

Edward's lips formed into a tight, angry line. "Then I'll just remove her from _my_ client list, as well. Problem solved."

I wanted to choke him, or maybe just pick up that coffee cup and toss the whole damn thing in his face. Maybe that would wake him up. Instead, I bit my tongue, as usual.

"Why would you want to do that?" I asked softly, shaking my head in disbelief. "Bella's a nice girl: beautiful, talented, very genuine. You should give her a chance. I think she could make you happy."

"Should I vomit now or later?" He snorted in disgust. "You sound like a Hallmark greeting card."

_Stubborn asshole._

He got up, tossed the rest of his coffee into the sink, rinsed out the cup and turned to face me. "You know I can't get involved with her. Number One, it's against the rules. Been there, done that and it nearly cost me my job. Number Two…?"

He stopped. He didn't need to finish the sentence. We both knew what reason Number Two was: _her._ Emily Young. And once _she_ came up in a conversation, said conversation ground to a screeching halt. From this point on, I had to tread carefully through the minefield that was my best friend's love life, _if _you could even call that fucked-up, heartbreaking mess a love life.

"I suppose that's where you're headed?"

"Believe it or not, most men who are engaged to be married _do_ actually enjoy spending time with their fiancés," he snapped sarcastically.

God, how many times had we had this conversation the past two years? He wouldn't listen, no matter what logical arguments I put forth in defense of my position. He simply refused to take anyone's advice. But what the hell. I'd give it one more shot.

"Edward..." I hesitated, thinking about how to say what needed to be said without completely pissing him off. "This is probably going to sound a little awkward, but whatever." I forced myself to look directly at his face and into those steely gray eyes. "I love you, man. You're the big brother I never had, and it's really hard for me to just stand by and watch this without saying something. All relationships start out wonderful, but sometimes there comes a point when they're just unhealthy. You and Emily are at that point. You need to walk away from this. "

"Walk away?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head and looked at me like I was a complete idiot, like I had shit for brains. "You don't understand. I love Emily with every breath that's in my body, and that's not going to change, _ever._ I'm not going anywhere, and I _am_ going to marry her no matter what anyone says or thinks about it, you included."

The stubborn determination I saw in his eyes told me that this conversation was over. Once again, I'd wasted my breath and wondered why I'd even bothered. I sighed in defeat.

"Tell her I said 'hey', then."

He nodded. "I will."

He started to walk out the door, but I couldn't let him go without saying something about last night. "I'm sorry about ditching you, but I just wanted you to have something for yourself for once. That's all. Don't be pissed at me, okay?"

He stopped, turned and looked at me over his shoulder. I had no idea what was going through his head, but he looked on the verge of breaking down. He quickly pulled himself together and nodded. "Thank you," was all he said, and then he was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>BELLA...<strong>

"Details, Bella. DETAILS!"

My Saturday had started with Alice's steady stream of text messages, and then with pounding on my front door when I'd ignored them. She was now sitting cross-legged on my bed and giving me THE glare, the one that said I'd better spill my guts or else she was going to torment the hell out of me all day until I did.

I loved Alice, I really did, but sometimes she was exhausting. All I wanted to do was sink back into sleep and try to forget about what had happened last night. Now I was going to have to rehash it all again, reopen the cut on my heart and watch it bleed out, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it.

_You're never going to see Edward again. _

Just the thought made me want to bawl my eyes out again, but I fought back the tears. I didn't want to hurt Alice's feelings. She'd meant well.

I sighed and pushed my sore body into an upright position, wincing at the slight pain in my thigh and hip muscles. A dull, throbbing ache lingered between my legs, a sweet echo of Edward who had, at first, roughly used my body for his own pleasure, but who had then, so very tenderly, taken me places where no man ever had. I could almost feel him still inside of me. I never wanted that feeling to leave.

"Bellllllaaaa." Alice was growing impatient.

I moaned, aggravated. "It's too early in the morning for this."

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon, dear," she said, rolling her eyes. "See what an awesome and patient friend I am? I let you sleep half the day away even though the suspense was killing me. So, _dish!"_

Putting off the inevitable, I pushed my tangled hair up and away from my face, threading my fingers through the rat's nest and trying to smooth it out. How much should I tell her?

"OH . MY. GOD. Is that a hickey?" She grinned and leaned closer, peering excitedly at my Whore Hematoma, studying it like it was a Rorschach ink blot. I wondered if she saw any revealing images in the small purple blotch. Perhaps I'd look later.

"Back off," I snapped grumpily. "Duh. Of course it's a hickey, courtesy of Edward Cullen." Just saying his name aloud made my heart ache.

"Tell me, Bella. Now. Every single dirty little detail."

I started with Jacob, because thinking of him hurt the least, and also made me smile.

"He's dark, dark hair and dusky skin, like maybe he has some Native American in him or something like that. His smile is incredible. It just lights up the room. He's funny, and smart, and so sweet. The most beautiful set of guns on a man that you've ever seen."

"Okaaay. I get that he's cute." She leered at me. "But was he good?"

I hesitated, suddenly shy at revealing the intimate details even though I was closer to Alice than to anyone else in the world. It just seemed a little weird, or perhaps I was just selfish, wanting to keep my memories only for myself.

"Oh no," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Please tell me that you had sex with them. That _is _what I paid for, after all. I swear, Bella, if you spent the night with those two guys and didn't even sleep with them, I am never going to spend another dime on you as long as I live!"

I had to laugh because her threat was ridiculous. Alice spent money faster, and with as much determination and zeal as a salmon swimming upstream to get some. Considering that she was an heiress, the lone daughter of one of the richest men in the city, she was incredibly generous with her money and her time. She wasn't snobby with it. She didn't lord it over everyone else that she was filthy, stinking rich. Instead, she was always there for her friends, always willing to help out, sometimes even when you didn't want her to. It didn't matter what you needed or when, Alice was there. A true friend.

"I had sex with both of them." I sighed and continued. "And yes, Jacob was good. They _both _were."

She giggled. "You had them both _at the same time?"_

I frowned. "No, dummy. I don't even think that's possible."

Alice rolled her eyes at me again and sighed in exasperation. "Honey, you need to get out more, or at least watch some porn. Two guys can do you at the same time, one in the hooha and the other in the…"

"Stop!" I yelped, covering my ears. I didn't even want the image of what she was about to say planted in my mind.

She stopped, but she was still grinning, enjoying the fact that she was way more educated in all things having to do with sex than I was.

"They took turns," I admitted simply, and I really didn't want to say any more than that.

"Well, what about this Edward Cullen, the guy with the awesome neck-sucking skills?"

I pictured him in my mind: tall and lean, beautiful blue-gray eyes and a soft, velvet voice that evoked thoughts of candlelight and raw pounding sex at the same time. His scent still lingered in my memories, as well as the feel of that hard shaft of pale silk filling me up completely. I also couldn't forget the sound of his longing, his loneliness, his pain.

"Edward,"I whispered softly, wishing he could hear me, wishing I could hold him in my arms and help him fix whatever was wrong in his life.

Alice's eyes narrowed as she studied me closely, picking up on the change in my voice. We knew each other so well. I should have known that I couldn't hide this from her.

"Oh my god." She scooted forward on the bed and grasped my hands in hers. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"

I shook my head and smiled sadly. "No, he didn't hurt me, at least not intentionally."

Alice looked confused. "Tell me, honey. What happened?"

I felt the tears pooling in my eyes. I sniffed and wiped at my face as they streaked downward. "Is it possible to fall in love with someone in just one night?"

Her mouth fell open in shock. "I have no idea." She shook her head and then smiled, stroking my hair so tenderly and making me cry even harder. "But if you did, then that the best five thousand dollars I've ever spent."

It was my turn for my mouth to fall open in shock. "Five thousand dollars! _For one night?"_

She chuckled and brushed off my objections. "I told you, Leather and Lace is an exclusive company, and I bought you a two-man contract—no cutting corners when it comes to my bestie. Of course, two costs a little more, and these guys were in big demand, but apparently it was worth it." She grinned, and I knew it was no use arguing with her further or objecting to the price. I'd be wasting my breath. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if this gift ended up being the best thing that's ever happened to you? Did he give you his number?"

I shook my head numbly. All he'd left me with was a glimpse inside of his soul, but that had been enough to make me fall.

"Oh no." Alice sighed. She sat back and studied me intently, seeking out my eyes even as I was avoiding her gaze. "I know that look. You've got Broken-Wing Syndrome again. What am I going to do with you, sweetie? You can't fix everyone in the world. You _know _that."

I slumped at being reminded of my habit of picking up strays and trying to nurse them back to health. I'd felt sorry for Mike, which was why I'd agreed to go out with him in the first place. That had been the biggest mistake of my life. Now, I was once again allowing myself to be sucked into another man's life, a man who obviously had been badly broken by some_one_ or some_thing. _

"I can't help it. You had to have been there. You had to hear how lost he sounded, how lonely. When he was making love to me he whispered such sad, sweet things in my ear. When he said my name, it broke my heart, like he was grasping at something and trying to hold onto it, even though he knew it was useless." I shook my head at how ridiculous I sounded. "I can't explain it right. All I know is that he's damaged. He's hurting, and he reached out to me last night. What kind of person would I be if I turned my back on that? I just don't know what's happened to him to make him that way. I mean, why would he even be lonely? The man is gorgeous. He could knock half the movie stars in Hollywood off the cover of GQ and no one would even miss them. He's just beautiful, and I think that beauty is more than skin deep."

Alice sighed and got this really dreamy look in her eyes. "Even though I worry about you when you put on your Mother Hen shoes, I still think this is so romantic."

"It's _not_ romantic," I said simply. "He left me a note. He made it pretty clear that this was only one night."

Alice perked up. "Let me see it."

It was lying on my nightstand, where I'd put if after I'd read it over and over again. I grabbed it and tossed it into her lap. She quickly read the contents, her perfectly plucked and delicate eyebrows pulled together in deep thought.

"Boy, you sure left one hell of an impression on this guy. He's a goner," she pronounced, grinning crookedly. "He's in love with you, too. No doubt in my mind."

I made a scoffing noise. "He said, 'I will never forget you', which means in guy-speak 'Hey, you were a good lay, but see ya later.'"

"That's not what that means," she scoffed. "'I will never forget you'? Are you kidding me? That means he's probably thinking about you right this very minute. He probably thought about you first thing when he opened his eyes today, and I'll bet you any amount of money that he also thought about you when he whacked off in the shower this morning. This guy is _not_ going to be able to put you out of his mind that easily. He's hooked, now you just have to reel him in."

I frowned at her analogy. It sounded so teenager-ish. This was much more than just a crush on some hot guy who was a good fuck. I sensed that Edward was at a critical point in his life, standing on the edge of an invisible emotional precipice. He was hanging on by his fingernails and had reached out to me for help. I wanted so badly to be the woman who pulled him from the ledge and back into the safety of my arms. I wanted to be the woman Edward Cullen ended up spending his life with.

Damn. I was so fucked. I'd fallen in love after one night, and with an emotionally tortured prostitute to beat it all. Why couldn't I just fall in love with someone normal and easy? Was that too much to ask?

Alice was grinning smugly, like the proverbial cat who had just swallowed the canary, and that feathered little fucker tasted just like Raspberry and Chocolate Truffle ice cream. "I have an idea," she said in an annoying sing-song voice.

Oh shit. Some of Alice's ideas were sweet, but some—like the time she'd surprised me at work with a singing telegram on my birthday, delivered by a hunk of man flesh in a barely-there tux—were just plain embarrassing.

"What?"

"We'll call Leather and Lace and book another night for you!" she exclaimed brightly.

"No. I'm not going to let you spend that kind of money on me again. No," I repeated firmly.

"I don't care about the stupid money. You know that doesn't mean shit to me. What matters to me is making sure that my best friend doesn't go to her grave with a shriveled up and wrinkly old vagina that's never been properly used, _or_ a dried up little prune for a heart. You need some romance, hon. You need some love in your life after the Mike fiasco." She jabbed her hands on her hips and grinned mischievously. I knew what was coming: Alice's unique philosophy of life, which I'd heard more times than I could count and it still made me smile every single time: "You need to take time to smell the roses, because sooner or later, you'll inhale a bee and die."

I threw my pillow at her and we both broke out in giggles. Even though she annoyed me sometimes, I loved her to death. When we finally stopped giggling, she tossed me my phone and the note from Edward.

"Make the call," she said seriously. "When they ask for payment information, just hand the phone to me."

I swallowed nervously and punched in the number. After only two rings, a professional voice answered on the other end.

"Leather and Lace. How may I direct your call?" the woman asked.

Oh shit. What was I supposed to say now? 'Could you transfer me to your male hooker department, please?' I should have put a little more thought into this.

"Uh…I'd like to make a reservation, please." That sounded nice and normal, so that just in case the FBI was listening in they wouldn't be breaking down my door any time soon and arresting me for soliciting a prostitute.

"One moment please." I was put on hold and forced to listen to elevator music. Granted, it was high-class and sophisticated elevator music with lots of violins and flutes, but it was still annoying.

"Leather and Lace. How may we be of service?" a new voice asked.

"I'd like to make a reservation for this coming Friday evening." I glanced at Alice for emotional support. She grinned and impatiently waved me onward. "With Edward Cullen."

"One moment please," the woman said. I could hear the clack of her fingers on her keyboard. "Your name?"

"Isabella Marie Swan," I answered.

Then there was silence, what seemed like an unusually long silence to me. "I'm sorry. Mr. Cullen isn't available next Friday. Perhaps you'd like someone else?"

"Well, what about Saturday?" I asked quickly.

"I'm sorry, no. He's booked solid next weekend," she answered.

"Well then, could you schedule it the next night that he's free?" I asked, refusing to take no for an answer.

"Could you hold please?"

I opened my mouth to object, but the voice was already gone, replaced with that horrid pseudo-Mozart music.

"They put me on hold."

Alice frowned and I felt like joining her. Had my name popped up on some terrorist watch list or something?

"Miss Swan, this is Blake Palmer, owner of Leather and Lace."

I was speechless for a few moments. A man? A fricking man owned and operated a high-classed prostitution house?

"I'm sorry that we can't provide the escort you have asked for, but it's out of my hands, I'm afraid. Mr. Cullen has removed you from his preferred client list, which means we are not allowed to book you with him. Is there someone else we could provide for you?"

I felt like I'd been slammed in the chest with a sledgehammer. I couldn't breathe. Edward had removed me? What had I done to him? Why?

"Uh…" I stuttered helplessly. "Why did he remove me?"

Mr. Palmer cleared his throat. "Our escorts aren't required to give a detailed reason, just that they would prefer not to see a particular client again. I'm sure it's nothing personal, Miss Swan. Now, we have many other quite suitable men available for that night. Do you have a preference?"

"What about Jacob Black?" I asked, thinking that I could hook up with him and find out what was going on with Edward.

"One moment." I heard the soft clacking of the computer keyboard again, and then a sigh. "I'm sorry. Mr. Black has also removed you from his client list. Would you like-"

I disconnected the call. Stunned, I met Alice's confused eyes and let go of the tears I'd been fighting to keep inside of me.

"They've removed me from their client list. _Both_ of them."

"Why?"

I shrugged hopelessly. "They didn't have to give a reason."

If it hadn't hurt so badly, this could have been hilariously funny. I'd been rejected by two prostitutes. How many people did _that _happen to in a day? What a real ego booster that was. Why in hell had he bothered with the 'you're a very special woman' bullshit? He obviously hadn't meant it. It was probably some stock paragraph that Leather and Lace required them to write. I bet every woman that Edward had been with was 'a very special person whom he'd never forget'. I couldn't believe how easily I'd been played. I felt like a complete idiot, moping around like a lovesick teenybopper, mooning over a man who'd looked at me as just another dollar in his bank account.

"Okay, this is pissing me off," Alice fumed. "What kind of hookers are these two? Are their dicks gold-plated or something?" Alice shot up off the bed and started pacing the room. "He was nice to you and then he just dumps you like you're trailer trash? Nuh uh. You don't treat my friend that way, buster!"

I watched Alice pace the floor, not really listening to the rest of her rant. I wanted to just crawl inside myself and retreat from the world for awhile. I needed some solitude to try and repair some of the damage a total stranger had done to my heart.

"It's all right, Alice. Really. I just want to take a shower and then do nothing for the rest of the day. I'm fine. Really."

She stopped, hands planted firmly on her hips again. "I have another idea," she said with an unmistakable determination that I knew so very well. "I'm going to call Leather and Lace tomorrow and book both of their high-classed hooker asses for _myself. _Then, you can crash the party and cuss the asshole out in private. How's that sound?"

"No," I said softly. "Just leave it alone."

"You mean to tell me you aren't just a tiny bit curious as to why they _both_ felt the need to drop you like yesterday's news? I could set up the date, and then you could waltz right in the restaurant and sit down at the table, pretty as you please. They can't exactly throw a tantrum in public, now can they? After all, they can't draw any unwanted attention to themselves for fear of embarrassing their precious company. I say we do it. Confront Edward and make him tell you why he dropped you. If you don't, you'll always wonder."

She had a point. Even though his answer was probably going to hurt like hell, I wanted to hear it from his own mouth. Why didn't he want to see me again? The sex had been incredible, but it was the quiet, tender moments that had made the evening so special. Had it meant nothing to him? Had it all been just an elaborate act, part of the service he provided for his clients? Alice was right. I needed to know.

"Let's do it," I said.


	9. Chapter 9: In Fucking Love

**Chapter 9: In Fucking Love**

**EDWARD…**

I headed straight for the kitchen, guided by the smell of fresh hazelnut coffee.

"I _really_ need to put a ring on your finger."

I often joked with Jake that it was a shame he hadn't been born a woman, or else I would have married him in a heartbeat. He made kick-ass coffee, was a fairly decent cook, and I already knew he was good in the sack. He usually rolled his eyes and laughed, or totally ignored me. Not this morning.

"Stop with the gay shit," he snapped.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise at his grouchiness, and took a second look. He was in the middle of something important. You could barely see his laptop among the books and papers spread out all over his side of the table.

"What's wrong with _you?_ Did you get an A minus in your Dildo class or something?"

He glared at me. _Shit._ Jake was rarely ever in a foul mood, which was a shame. I'd gotten up in the mood to mess with him.

"It's _Mechanical Vibrations_, and I took that _last_ semester. I pulled a solid 4.0 out of it too, I'll have you know."

"Sexy," I said, leering at him suggestively, which earned me another angry glare. Obviously, he wasn't going to brighten my day with our usual good-natured banter. "What's wrong?"

He fell back in his chair and glared at me again. "Maybe you _should_ marry my ass, because if it wasn't for me you wouldn't have a clue what was going on. Do you _ever_ check the schedule?"

"I haven't had time this morning," I said, indicating with a glance down at my coffee cup that certain things were more important than others.

"We have a booking for Friday night, a triple with a fucking heiress. I fucking _hate_ heiresses!"

Aaah. I understood his mood now. Heiresses. Jake's worst nightmare. For the most part, he enjoyed this escort gig, but the super-rich chicks stuck in his craw for some reason. I'd never been able to figure that one out.

"Snobby rich girls need love too, you know." I shrugged. "It's just business. Don't let them get to you."

"Easy to say when you're lily white," he snapped. "Remember the one who wanted to know if I had my green card? The bitch actually thought I was a fucking illegal. And remember that dumb blonde with the fake tits who made _me_, but not you, double-bag it, like the Quileute in me might rub off on her pristine white Caucasian pussy?"

I sighed in sympathy. We had encountered a few unpleasant wealthy women along the way who had seemed to enjoy flaunting the fact that they were uber-rich, and who'd looked down their long snobby noses at both of us, Jake more than me. They never seemed to see the irony in the situation: _they_ were the ones having to pay for sex, not us. Hello? There was a reason they weren't getting any for free, obviously. _The shit we put up with… _

"So, who is she?" I asked.

"Bella's friend, Alice Brandon," he said. "She's booked us _both_ for this Friday night. Bella must have given us a glowing recommendation."

My alarm bells started ringing into the stratosphere. "Just Alice? Not Bella?"

He shook his head. "Nope. No mention of her. Just rich little Alice with her big-assed bank account, and probably a matching ego to go along with it."

We fell silent, considering. Whenever we were faced with a potentially unpleasant job we always talked it out first. If one of us was uncomfortable, we'd turn it down. But there was a limit on how many we could turn away each month without getting our asses reamed by Palmer. Jake and I rarely turned down a job, though. We both needed the money and pickiness was a luxury we couldn't afford.

"If we turn it down, that's a hell of a pay cut," he said, mirroring my thoughts exactly.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And I need it this month."

So, because we needed the money, we agreed to take the job. Jake wasn't happy, but he would do it, and he'd do a good job, as well. The man had an unbelievable work ethic for someone so young. I had no doubt that he'd make a success out of himself someday.

"Do you have any idea what she looks like?" I asked, just out of curiosity.

Not that it mattered. Fat, skinny, old, young, pretty, or ugly, it was all the same to us. It was rare to have a client that had it all, like Bella had. I silently cursed myself for thinking of her. Walking away from our night together with just a note was for the best. Cut all ties, one quick slice across the heart, bleed out until there's no emotion left and then move on. It was a delicate balance juggling my work and Emily. I didn't need any extra distractions like Bella to fuck things up. I forced all thoughts of her from my mind as Jake typed away on his laptop.

"Let's Google her."

We found a few pictures from some social networks she belonged to and some publicity stills for her father's company. She was very attractive: petite and slender, long brunette hair, proportioned features, and a sweet smile.

"She looks nice," I observed.

"The crazy ones _always_ look nice," Jake muttered, but I noticed that he lingered on her picture a little longer than was necessary.

"Maybe this heiress is different."

"Sure, sure," he said, snorting sarcastically.

I guessed we'd find out Friday.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Friday evening, Bossa Nova<strong>_

**BELLA…**

I was beginning to feel utterly ridiculous. Why had I allowed Alice to talk me into this? Oh yeah, now I remembered. I'd been dumped by two prostitutes and they were supposed to explain why, _after_ I crashed their date, _which_ I hadn't been invited to. I hoped this worked.

I couldn't believe how my life had changed in just one short week. Two weeks ago I'd been a meek and mild office worker, a bookwormish, somewhat shy girl, who'd been wrung through the relationship wringer with Mike. All I'd wanted was some recoup time to get over it. Now, thanks to my bestie (rolling eyes), I'd screwed two hookers, got dumped by said hookers, and was now hiding in a fancy-pants restaurant's bathroom so I could _spy_ on said hookers, and in a few minutes I was either going to embarrass the hell out myself or have a major I-Am-Woman-Hear-Me-Roar moment in front of the whole world. What had happened to the "meaningless sex" part of all of this?

I gazed into the bathroom mirror and barely recognized the hot number staring back at me. Alice had gone overboard, as usual. We'd gone shopping and found me a sexy new red dress and a matching pair of slinky heels. She'd taken a flat iron to my hair, and it now lay in a long, straight, silken sheath, draping gracefully down my back and shoulders like a waterfall of dark chocolate. Subtle makeup and some understated, but elegant, jewelry finished off the look. It was Alice's intention to make Edward regret with every inch of his gold-plated dick (her words) that he'd dumped me. All I wanted was to know why he'd turned his back on something special. I knew that he'd felt the connection between us that night. Why had he rejected it, especially when he was so obviously lonely?

I checked my hair and makeup one more time.

_Whoo, baby. You're going to turn that boy's two-by-four into a four-by-eight when he gets a load of you!_

For once, I agreed with that slutty chick who'd taken up residence in my subconscious. I _did_ look pretty damned hot, a lot hotter than I had on my birthday. I wondered what Edward would think of my new look.

I took a deep breath for courage and peeked out the bathroom door. I saw them. They were sitting at Alice's table in a secluded corner with their backs to me. My heart lurched—another cliché, but there was no other way to describe it—at seeing Edward sitting there beside Jacob. We'd taken a chance that he wouldn't come because of Alice's connection to me, but he was there, in all of his glorious, manly beauty. I was shaking inside at the thought of locking eyes with him again. With wobbly legs and a stomach full of butterflies, I strode across the plush carpeted floor like I belonged there. Very smoothly, I brushed by their table and sat down in the extra chair facing them.

I was completely unprepared for their reaction.

"Bella! What the…?" Jacob looked at me, confused, and then shot an angry glare across the table at Alice, his eyes narrowed into black slits.

But it was Edward who shocked me the most. His eyes were a frighteningly icy blue. He was furious. In just a few seconds, before I could even open my mouth, the evening was over, and my opportunity to find out why this beautiful man had rejected me was lost.

"I'm out of here." Edward bolted up out of his chair, bumping the table and nearly upending all of the drinks. With one last furious glance at Alice, and then at me, he stormed out.

I was stunned. I'd imagined discomfort, even outright lying when confronted, but never fury. The thought of Edward being angry with me hurt even more than his rejection. I felt the sting of tears. I wanted to crawl behind the drapes and hide.

"_What the fuck was that?!"_ Jake hissed at Alice, and she was giving it right back to him with her trademark glare.

"He owed her an explanation!" she snapped.

"That was fucking low," Jacob snarled. "You had no right to do that."

"As Bella's friend I had _every_ right!"

As I listened to their quiet, but heated exchange I realized I was on the brink of falling apart. I couldn't handle anything else, especially a public argument. With tears threatening to completely ruin my perfect make-up, I rose from the table.

"I'm leaving. I'm sorry, Jacob," I said, my voice trembling pitifully. I wondered if I'd be able to hold it together long enough to get out of the room.

As I gathered up my purse and prepared to leave, Jacob issued a threat across the table, jabbing his finger perilously close to Alice's face. "You stay right where you are," he ordered. "I'm going to talk to Bella, and _then_ you and I are going have ourselves a little talk when I get back."

I had no idea how Alice reacted to his threat because I was already walking away. It was a wonder I made it through the maze of tables, considering that everything was blurring together. I barely made it out of the room and into the quiet hallway that led to the exit before the tears burst free. I collapsed back against the wall and hid my face from anyone passing by, and cried my eyes out.

In just a few seconds, a pair of strong arms enveloped me. _Jacob._ I leaned against his chest and cried some more. He was so sweet, whispering nice assurances that everything was going to be all right, when I knew with a certainty that it wasn't. Edward hated me.

He pulled me out of the hallway and into a small coat-room. "Bella." He pushed at my hair and gently wiped the tears from my face with his fingers. "Look at me."

"Edward hates me," I sobbed, meeting Jacob's sympathetic eyes.

He shook his head and smiled sadly. "He doesn't hate you. Trust me on that."

"You didn't see his eyes. He was furious with me. He hates me and I don't know why."

Jacob sighed. "There's something you need to know about Edward. He always does what's right, no matter the consequences. Always. Ever since I've known him he's been that way. If there's a rule, Edward will follow it, that's just how he is, and Leather and Lace has a big rule about escorts having personal relationships with women who have been clients. It's not allowed, and if it happens and it ends up getting messy, then the escort is asked to quit or is fired. Edward needs this job, so he's trying his best not to break that rule. You're just making it harder for him."

This whole situation was incredibly confusing. "You left that night so that we could be alone, and now you're telling me I'm making things harder for him? I kind of had the feeling you were in my corner."

"I _am_ in your corner. I think you would be good for Edward, and I've told him that, but he doesn't listen to me, never has. And that anger? That wasn't directed at you. If I know Edward, he's mad at himself right now, and it's because he's dying to break all the rules and just forget about doing what's right for once. He wants you, but to have you he's going to have to do something that he doesn't want to do."

None of this made sense. "What does that mean? What's wrong with him? Tell me," I pleaded.

"I wish that-"

Before Jacob could finish his sentence, Alice stormed into the room. "If you think I'm going to sit and stay like some trained little toy poodle just because you stuck your fat finger in my face, then you've got another thing coming, buster!"

Oh boy. Alice had her Victoria's Secret Cheekies all in a wad. She was shooting the infamous Brandon Green-Eyed Death Ray right at him, but Jacob was holding his own. The sweet guy who'd held me in his arms and comforted me just a few moments ago had suddenly morphed into a storm cloud in a suit.

"My fingers aren't fat!" he thundered.

"Alice, maybe we should just go," I interjected, hoping to head things off before they got really ugly.

Alice rummaged around in her purse and held out her keys, her eyes never leaving Jacob's face. "Take my car. I'll get a cab later. Jacob and I are going to talk."

They glared at each other in silence.

"Are you sure it's okay?" I asked.

Jacob smirked, his dark eyes never leaving Alice's face. "I'll take care of your friend, Bella. Don't worry."

I looked at each of them, finally deciding that they were adults and they'd work it out, or one of them would kill the other. All I knew was that I didn't have the energy or the emotional fortitude to deal with anything else tonight. I needed to go home, put on my favorite fuzzy pajamas, curl up with a good book or movie, and emotionally regroup.

"Well…uh…have fun then," I said weakly, even though I doubted either one of them heard me. "Bye."

Jacob gave me a silent up-nod with his chin, his dark eyes still fixed on Alice's face. As I left, I wondered if Alice had it in her to survive a night with an angry Jacob Black. He looked pretty damned scary to me. But, on the other hand, Alice's female gonads were a lot bigger than the average man's. I wasn't sure I'd want to be in Jacob's shoes either.

* * *

><p><strong>JAKE..<strong>

"We're in a restaurant and I'm hungry," she announced and then before I could say something about eating making her ass get big, she flounced off. I had no choice but to trail behind her, trying not to notice the nice sway of her hips when she walked.

We settled down at our table and in moments the waiter arrived. I fully expected her to choose the most expensive thing on the menu.

"I'll have the petite sirloin, medium rare, green beans and a baked potato, plain," she told the waiter sweetly.

I smiled to myself at her choices, even though they surprised me. No lobster? Caviar? But the joke was going to be on her. The green beans in this place sucked ass, and hopefully the baked potato would have the consistency of overcooked rubber. Sadly, the steak was pretty good.

"And water to drink." She smiled innocently at me across the table, as if she'd been reading my mind. No expensive French wine? No champagne? Not even a Diet Coke? Huh.

"What will the gentleman have?" the waiter asked, his pen poised patiently over his elegant notepad.

No way in fucking hell I was going to get anything more expensive than her. Two could play this game.

"I'll have what the…_lady_…is having," I answered, hesitating on the word 'lady' because that was still up in the air as far as I was concerned.

That earned me a glare, which I enjoyed immensely. This was one heiress who wasn't going to get away with lording it over me.

After the waiter left, we studied each other across the small table. She looked exactly like her pictures on the internet: long, straight hair cut into a fashionable style, minimal makeup, very elegant and well-made clothes that fit her perfectly, accentuating her curves, of which she had many.

_Jake, what the fuck are you doing? Quit eying her tits and stay focused!_ This chick has lied her ass off and pulled a very dirty trick on all of us. She was attractive, yes. Built like a brick house, yes. Filthy rich, oh_, hell_ yes. But she was also a conniving and sneaky little shit.

"You're a piece of work," I snarled softly.

"I could say the same thing about _you,_" she said, elevating her chin into that I'm-Better-Than-You way that rich women had. "Bella said you were sweet, funny, and smart. She must have had one too many margaritas, is all I can say. If you're what Leather & Lace calls professional, then just tell them to send their landscaper next time. I highly doubt I'd be able to tell the difference."

I felt my temper rise. _Their landscaper?_ "What exactly are you implying?"

She smirked. "You're smart. _You _figure it out."

I bit my tongue and kept my mouth shut because Bossa Nova was on Leather & Lace's whitelist. I couldn't afford to show my ass, not here. I'd get a major dressing down by Palmer for that. I wasn't an idiot, though. She was implying I was an illegal, since a lot of people with questionable citizenship status did landscaping work. But I kept quiet, even though it was murder not to be able to say something in my defense.

The wait for our food to arrive were the most uncomfortable minutes I'd ever lived through in my life. I'd completely dropped the escort façade. There were no pleasantries exchanged between us at all. We either glared at each other or avoided each other's eyes and concentrated on our drinks and the pre-dinner rolls. It was a relief when our dinner was finally placed in front of us.

"For your information, I'm Quileute," I said once we'd commenced eating. "That's a Native American tribe from the Pacific Northwest, in case you were doing your nails during history class. My ancestors were living on this big pile of dirt you call the United States long before your daddy was even born."

"How very quaint," she said, smirking. "And I _never_ do my own nails."

My jaw tightened—a knee-jerk reaction to her condescending tone. I'd heard that tone way too many times in this job, and it pushed my buttons every single time.

"This steak isn't medium rare. It's well-done and dry as sawdust," she huffed, clearly annoyed.

I upended my glass of water—what was left of it—all over her steak. "Try it now."

She threw down her fork. It clanked loudly against her plate, drawing looks from neighboring diners. "You're an arrogant dickwad!" she hissed.

I smiled, enjoying my moment in the sun, and then began the process of putting an end to this hellish excuse for an evening. "Why don't we just call it a night. You can tell Leather and Lace that you got sick, or that I got sick, whatever. We won't even mention that we despised each other, _or_ the fact that you lied about Bella tagging along. You'll get your money back and we can both go home and do something else more enjoyable, like peel off our toenails."

I fully expected her to take me up on my offer. It would take a huge chunk out of my paycheck, but I'd rather tighten my belt than put up with her snobby, hateful ass for the rest of the evening. A great deal of escort work was nothing but acting—pretending you liked the woman sitting in front of you, saying sweet things to her while you fucked her, even though you'd rather have been home fucking your own hand. But even acting had its limits.

She shook her head and smiled. "Oh no. I paid good money for you, Jacob Black, and you're going to earn every single penny of it, _and_ Edward's share, too."

Oh yeah. I hated this bitch. She had me by the balls and she knew it. I had no choice but to go along.

"Okay. Then why don't we just skip the prologue, the flowery prose and the happily-ever-after at the end. Let's go straight to the epilogue—the company apartment—and let me show you how professional I _really_ am. I'll give you a good fuck, the best you've ever had, even _two_, and then you can go home happy knowing you got your money's worth."

She laughed, a soft tinkling sound that made me think of delicate china wind chimes hitting against each other in the wind. It was beautiful and her smile lit up her face. _And why the fuck are you even noticing that? You hate this bitch, remember?_

"Jacob, sweetie, I don't need to pay for sex. I can get that whenever I want, for _free_. No, we're not going to do what _you_ want, we're going to do what _I _want this evening, since I'm the one forking out the big bucks."

It was at that point that I realized 'resistance was futile'. I had a feeling that Alice was the Fifth Avenue version of the Borg from Star Trek. After dinner, she was going to attach herself to me and drain me of every bit of intelligence that I possessed, and assimilate me into her meaningless world of femininity. I imagined an evening spent trolling the mall, surfing the shops for the perfect pumps to go with a cute little dress, or the dreamiest necklace and earrings to match her equally dreamy purse.

"What do you want to do then?"

She smiled smugly. _Yep. Here it comes._

"You're going to take me to the museum. There are some new exhibits that I haven't had a chance to see. _The Model as Muse_, a retrospect on 20st century haute couture, that's a fashion term, in case you were busy torturing small animals during French class. And there's also _Dangerous Liaisons, _not the film but the exhibit. It focuses on dress and its aesthetic interplay with art and furniture between 1750 and 1789. Are you still with me? Do I need to talk slower?"

I shook my head, unable to form an intelligent response. _The museum?_ I was going to spend the night at the museum?

"And then I'm dying to see that Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit, _Organic Architecture, _that's on temporary loan from the Milwaukee Art Museum, and you're going to take me. You're going to be right there beside me every step of the way. You're going to look at every single thing I want to look at, and read every single placard at each display. We're going to have intelligent and lively discussions about everything we see, and you're going to love every single minute of it. We're going to be the last two people out the door when they close that place down tonight."

She propped her elbows on the table and folded her hands primly beneath her chin. Her crystal clear green eyes danced with evil delight as she waited for my reaction.

Little did Alice know that if the museum had a vagina and could cook, I'd marry it. I'd live in the damn place if they'd let me. I'd clean it for free just to be able to have round-the-clock access. And Frank Lloyd Wright? The man was my idol, my all-time favorite architect. I would have switched teams and married him too, if I'd been alive back then.

I looked across the table at Alice. She was beautiful and had a sweet smile. She had some very nice junk in both her trunk and underneath her hood. But best of all, she was intelligent and interested in more than just which shoes looked best with which dress. This chick wasn't half bad.

"And just for the record," she continued, and the evil glint from her eyes was completely gone. "I did what I did because my best friend was in pain and I wanted to help her. You see, when someone I love is hurting, I can't just stand by and watch. I have to do something, even if it doesn't help. That's just how I am. I have to at least try."

I thought about Edward and his situation. Like Alice, I couldn't just sit idly by and watch his life self-destruct either. A true friend did whatever they had to do to support those whom they loved. I completely understood where she was coming from.

"Unfortunately, money can't fix everything."

She nodded sadly. "I know."

Our eyes met across the table. Right there in Bossa Nova, over a soggy steak and shitty, half-eaten green beans, we made a connection.

I was in fucking love.

* * *

><p><strong>EDWARD… <strong>

"So, how did it go?"

Jake was at the kitchen table again, with papers spread out all around him and his laptop up and running.

"It was all right," he murmured absent-mindedly. "Bella left. It was just me and Alice."

"I'm sorry for deserting you and leaving you at the mercy of an heiress, but I couldn't stay. You understand, right?"

He shrugged. "Sure, I understand. No problem."

I was surprised. I'd expected a tantrum or at least an argument over my behavior last night. I knew Jake. Something was up.

"Did you take her to the apartment?"

"Nope, never made it there. We went to the museum for four hours and then we went dancing at the 9:30 club until it closed. Then we went to one of those terrible all-night cafes and ate some crappy, unhealthy food and then she went home."

The museum? Sometimes when this escort junk got really bad and we both talked about quitting, we would always end up joking about _our_ dream date, what we would do if a woman would do whatever _we _wanted for the evening, and it wasn't just loads of sex. Jake's dream date was taking his girl to the museum and her actually enjoying it. He hated bimbos. If the girl wasn't smart, she didn't stand a chance with him. Of course, I'd made fun of his choice, but mine wasn't much better. I wanted a woman who lived, ate and breathed music. A night at the symphony was my dream date, and Jake thought that was hilariously funny. Personally, I'd thought I'd stood a much better chance of finding _my _dream date that he did his. Maybe I'd been wrong.

_Bella._

Her name popped into my head, and I immediately pushed it right back out. That was history, and after last night I was going to make sure I never saw her again, either accidentally or on purpose.

"So, you got a private dance room," I said, smirking knowingly.

"Nope, but we hit every _other_ room in that place," he said, chuckling. "Danced our asses off."

"You didn't have sex with her?"

"No. Didn't even kiss her." He jabbed his pencil behind his ear and began typing away on his laptop.

Not even a kiss? Huh. I watched him carefully while he worked. He was studiously avoiding looking at me, and after awhile I finally figured out why.

"You're in love with an heiress."

His head shot up and he glared at me. "I am not!"

I grinned. _Over-reacting much? _"Yes you are."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"I. AM. _NOT!_"

I thought about continuing this cute little comedy routine, but I let it drop. Jake had fallen. The right girl had finally found him: beautiful, intelligent, loved museums and she loved to dance. Jake's dream girl. The filthy, stinking rich part might present a problem, but true love could work around anything.

_Not everything, Edward._

I ignored that nagging voice in my head, the one that simply refused to let me forget Bella. I needed to focus on my fiancé and not some girl I'd had one night of good sex with. _It was more than just good sex and you know it._

Jake sighed and jerked his pencil from behind his ear and threw it on the table in frustration. "I'm not in love, okay? I'm…I'm…in… _like_."

I laughed. "In like? You sound like a fourteen-year-old. Are you going to see her again?"

He sighed again. "We have a date for next Friday. She's paying. I mean, she's literally paying me, as a client. We'll see how it goes."

* * *

><p><strong>BELLA…<strong>

Somehow I'd gotten transported into an alternate universe, where the same characters lived but they acted completely opposite from their counterparts in the _real_ universe. Case in point: Alice. When I'd left her and Jake last night they'd looked on the verge of killing each other, and this morning…?

"He's so sweet. You were right." Fifty dreamy sighs later, Alice was still singing Jacob's praises. "He took me to the museum and we had a blast. He was actually interested in the clothing exhibits and we both love Frank Lloyd Wright. How perfect is that?"

Dreamy Sigh Number 51.

"Then we went dancing at the 9:30 club. We hit every room and danced until we were all stinky and sweaty and tired and…"

Her voice trailed off into silence and then Dreamy Sigh Number 52.

"Did he mention Edward at all?"

She refocused her eyes away from thoughts of Dream Jake and onto mine. "No, he didn't, and I didn't ask. I thought I'd better not, especially after what I'd done. Jake was upset with me at first, but then things all worked out."

Dreamy Sigh Number 53.

"Did you and he….?" I left the rest unsaid, but Alice got my meaning.

"No we didn't, and isn't that just so sweet? He never even kissed me! He was the perfect gentleman all night long. His hands never wandered, although I think he looked at my boobs a few times." She giggled. "He opened doors for me, held out my chair, and kept a gentleman's polite hand on my elbow or my waist the whole time. He was just so incredibly sweet."

Dreamy Sigh Number 54. Oh boy.

"You're in love with him."

She smiled. "Yeah, I think I am, and in one night. Can you believe that?"

I thought of Edward and the beautiful night we'd spent in each other's arms, and then I remembered the fury in his eyes at the restaurant.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry." She swooped me into her arms and squeezed me tight. "I'm being insensitive and selfish. I didn't even think of Edward when I said that. I'm so sorry, sweetie. What we need to do is figure out a way to get you two together so you can talk this out."

"NO!" I said a bit too quickly and a bit too loudly. "No, don't worry about it, please. I'm fine. Just focus on Jake, okay?"

"We're going out this Friday. Not an official date, you understand, because that's verboten with Leather and Lace, so I'm booking him as a client. Maybe I can get him to talk about Edward. I'll see what I can find out."

I nodded my permission. There wasn't any use in trying to dissuade her not to grill Jacob. When it came to her friends' happiness, Alice was relentless, like one of those Saint Bernard dogs with the barrel around its neck that they sent to rescue people.

I listened patiently while she went on and on about her evening with Jacob. Any other friend might have gotten jealous at hearing her girlfriend gush over her new love, especially when her own heart was about to break into pieces, but I wasn't just any friend. Instead of being envious, I was just plain happy for her. She'd had her share of POS boyfriends who'd just wanted to date her because she was rich, or because they'd wanted an "in" with her father's company. If Jacob turned out to be THE ONE, then I'd be the first one in line to congratulate them.

We talked nearly the entire day away. She listened just as patiently as I told her about Edward, all the details about our time together that I'd left out before, along with my theories about what was wrong with him. She agreed with my appraisal. Someone had most likely hurt him very badly and he was scared to give his heart away again.

She vowed again to try and get Jacob to open up about Edward. I crossed my fingers and hoped that she was successful. Even if Edward never wanted to see me again, I needed to know what was wrong and why he'd rejected our connection. I needed closure with him before I could move on.

Alice grinned. "In the meantime, you need to make use of that mechanical birthday gift I got you _last_ year."

My face turned red and we both giggled.

Maybe I would.


	10. Chapter 10: Saturday

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: ** When this was previously posted, I received a review from a reader who said the scenario in this chapter sounded "contrived". It's not. It's actually based on a real-life experience I had when I younger. **WARNING**: a bit of angst coming your way. But just remember, there IS an HEA for all characters in this story!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Saturday<strong>

**BELLA…**

My mother always told me, "You can't make someone love you if they don't", and she was right. No matter how much you cared for someone or wanted to make a relationship work, if the other person had no feelings for you, or was unwilling to commit themselves to you, then it was all wasted effort.

It had been a little over a month since the incident at Bossa Nova, and some days it felt as if Edward had never even existed. Sometimes I wondered if I'd dreamed that night. When I doubted, my gaze always strayed to his tie hanging off the edge of my vanity mirror. I could see it from my bed, and its very presence reassured me that that night had indeed happened. The scent of his cologne had faded from the silk fabric long ago, but the memories still lingered. That was one thing my mother had failed to tell me. How did you make the memories go away?

Alice and Jake were an official couple now. They "dated" every Friday night—not a real date, because that was against Leather and Lace's stupid rules. Instead, Alice paid to spend the evening with him as an "official" client. They texted each other constantly and Skyped each other to death, but I wasn't jealous of them at all. In fact, I was thrilled for Alice. She'd finally found a man who was interested in her for more than just her bank balance or the fact that she was Dane Brandon's daughter. She was giddy, and who could blame her?

She continued to pump Jake for information about Edward, but it was a lost cause. He politely, but firmly, refused to talk about whatever it was that had hurt Edward so badly. He told Alice that, although he adored me and thought I was perfect for Edward, he valued Edward's friendship too much to talk about his private life without his permission. But he reassured me through the Alice Grapevine that he was still rooting for me and bringing up my name in conversation whenever he could. He had good intentions, but it was useless. Edward obviously had no interest in pursuing the connection we'd made the night of my birthday. If he had, he could have contacted me anytime he'd wanted through Jake and Alice. He didn't care about me enough to trust me with his heart, so I had to take my mother's advice and convince _my_ heart to quit holding on to hope. It was time to move on.

The mundane soon overtook my life as it always seemed to do. First a broken water heater and two days of taking cold showers before the super got around to replacing it, then a shake-up at work, with talk of layoffs and shuffling of company "resources". Luckily, my coveted desk job (rolling eyes) survived the day. And then there were the three days of arguing with a collection agency over a thirty-eight dollar and sixteen cents doctor bill that I had already paid once and damned if I was going to pay again. And _finally, _the last straw: Henrietta suffered the automotive equivalent of a massive stroke. I had the poor girl towed to the dealership, where they promised to have her back in working order by mid-morning Saturday. Real life was such a fun bitch to hang out with.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Saturday<strong>_

Sitting in a deserted auto dealership waiting room trying to block out the sound of the droning television perched on the wall like a giant fly, and reading an outdated magazine article about how to have the best sex of your life: yeah, a lovely way to spend a Saturday. The author of the article obviously knew absolutely nothing about how to have the best sex of your life since she'd made no mention of booking two exquisitely beautiful hookers for a night of meaningless sex, and then falling in love with one of them, after the most heavenly lovemaking you'd ever experienced. I snorted softly and turned the page halfway through the article. Boring. Turned the page. Boooorrring. Turned the page. Yawn.

Suddenly a pair of scuffed and worn Reeboks walked into my line of vision. _Somebody needs to go shopping for some new shoes. _ Jeans, with frayed threads tickling the rubber soles, were bunched up in a wad around the person's ankles. _And buy some jeans that fit. Hello? _I returned my attention back to the magazine. Boring. Turned the page.

"I'm here to pick up my car."

My head shot up, the magazine forgotten. I knew that voice.

"Name?" the guy behind the window asked.

"Edward Cullen."

While he talked with the man at the window, I studied him from behind. He looked nothing like the sophisticated GQ "model" in the tailored suit who had so smoothly seduced me. His jeans were out-of-style-faded and ill-fitting, sagging in the seat and hiding the tight ass that I knew lay underneath. They were also way too long and puddled at the tops of his shoes, the hems nothing but tattered threads in some places. His blue shirt had seen better days, too. It was faded, and the hem had fallen out on the lower left side, making him look lopsided. His bronze hair was sticking out here and there, like he'd just crawled out of bed a few minutes ago. Immediately, I thought about that night in the apartment, and how I'd smoothed his messy hair. He'd blushed, but had allowed me to run my fingers through the tangled strands.

_Stop it, Bella. Remember, this is the man who opened himself up to you and made you fall in love with him and then slammed the door in your face. The same man who couldn't even stand the sight of you that night at Bossa Nova._

He turned around and after he'd stuffed a wad of bills back into his wallet, our eyes met. In seconds, a myriad of emotions flashed across the stubble-covered canvas of his face: shock, sadness, and finally that inexplicable fear and longing I'd caught a glimpse of that night. I wondered how long it would take for him to come to his senses and bolt out the door, his gray eyes blazing with fury, but time dragged on with no reaction from him, each of us just staring silently back at the other. The longer the silence continued, the angrier I got. How fucking long was he going to stand there and gape at me like I was a three-headed dick?

I saw the very moment in his tired eyes when his indecision turned to calm resignation. He jabbed his wallet and keys in his pocket, took a breath and then crossed the room in several long strides, settling into a chair next to me, our bodies at right angles to each other and our knees inches from touching.

"Bella."

Hearing my name roll off his tongue sent shivers crawling down my back. Luckily, my inner skank who also doubled as the Beotch From Hades when the need arose, gave me a good bitch-slap to the face.

_Don't listen to that velvet voice. He could have contacted you any time he wanted. Remember that, honey. He's had pleeeenty of opportunities. He's only talking to you right now because he knows how badly it would look if he just walked out._

"Edward," I responded coolly.

Another prolonged and uncomfortable silence.

"So, your car is broken down?" he asked finally.

Duh. We were sitting in the service area waiting room of an auto dealership. "No, I just brought Henrietta down here to hook up with her favorite mechanic. They're probably going at it right now behind a stack of tires." I was being a total sarcastic buttface, but the way I saw it, I had a right.

He frowned. "Henrietta? A friend?"

I rolled my eyes. "My car, Edward. Henrietta is my car, and yes, she's broken down."

I saw a glimmer of a smile, but it left as quickly as it came. "You name your car? That's kind of strange."

I gave him a flat, sarcastic look. "We name guys' penises, but somehow naming a car is strange?"

Edward's eyes flicked away from mine and focused on the tiled floor between his feet. Neither one of us said it, but I was pretty sure he was thinking it. _Pale silk…_

He continued to stare at the floor and I pretended to read my magazine. The television droned on in the background, providing very little relief from the awkward silence between us. How could anyone possibly think that some eternally long infomercial about the dealership's latest chunk of shiny metal to roll off the assembly line would be entertaining?

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly in that soft, velvety voice of his.

"For what?" _As if I didn't know._

"For my behavior at Bossa Nova that night. I over-reacted…a little."

"You think?" _Testicle torpedoes armed and bitch thrusters engaged, Captain._

We looked at each other and then looked away. Despite his apology, my cat claws were still fully extended, razor sharp and ready to slice-and-dice. But instead of being angry at my bitchy attitude, he just looked pitiful, like he wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere and hide. Why wasn't he pissed and throwing the bitch word around like Mike always had? Why was _I_ suddenly feeling guilty when _he_ was the one who'd acted like a total ass?

"You look amazing in red, and I loved what you did with your hair."

He'd noticed the dress, the hair. OMG, he'd actually noticed. A familiar warmth spread through me, heating my neck and face and wetting the crevice between my thighs. My cat claws instantly retracted. The loathsome bitch inside of me deflated like a stuck balloon and fizzled away in defeat. This man had my heartstrings wrapped all around his beautiful self. I just couldn't be mean to him for very long.

I lost the sarcasm and thanked him. "And you were rockin' that black suit pretty good yourself. You look nice in black."

He gave me one of his confused smile slash frowns, which was apparently his standard reaction to any compliment.

"Uh…thanks." The man truly had no idea how attractive he was. "So, what do you think about Jake and Alice?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject. "Who would have thought?"

"I think it's great," I answered, relieved that he'd switched topics. "Alice is the happiest I've ever seen her. Most of her old boyfriends were only interested in her money or getting a job at her daddy's company. Jake seems to be different."

Edward snickered, causing his eyes to sparkle with mischief, which made me smile. "Trust me. Jake isn't the least bit interested in Alice's bank account." He tapped the side of his head and grinned. "He's obsessed with her brain. Gray matter turns him on."

I giggled as I imagined Jacob holding a glob of lumpy gray brain-goo in his arms and gazing at it lovingly. "I'll have to tell Alice to stop flaunting her lobes around everywhere, then. She's a danger to men all around the world."

He laughed at my joke, his brilliant smile overtaking his face, his eyes shining a vivid blue. I'd almost forgotten how animate his eyes could be. I couldn't look away.

"Yeah, those lobes, they're hard to resist," he said, shaking his head and snickering.

Laughter faded to smiles. He held my gaze for the first time since we'd started talking. His eyes drifted down my face, settling on my mouth for several moments and then slowly rising back up. I squeezed my pelvic muscles together in reaction to the heat I saw in those eyes. I let my own gaze drop and linger on _his _mouth for awhile. A lot of guys looked shitty with day-old stubble, but not Edward. It dotted his upper lip and swept across his chin and jaw in the sexiest way. Smooth shaven or scruffy, Edward Cullen was a beautiful man. When I raised my eyes back to his, they were blue-gray and smoky, intense and full of longing.

"Bella Swan!"

The man behind the window called my name and shattered the sexual tension in the air. Edward swallowed and relaxed back in his seat, his cloudy eyes still fixed on my face.

"Wait for me?" I asked.

He nodded. I took care of the payment details and retrieved my keys. Edward rose from his chair and beat me to the door, pulling it open and standing aside to allow me to leave first. I made a bee-line for Henrietta, after making my way around a multi-colored, rusty piece of crap parked right beside of her. Edward trailed behind me and leaned back against the dilapidated car.

"So this is Henrietta?" he asked, appraising my car from head to tail lights with a discerning eye.

"Yep, this is her. Where's yours?"

"I'm leaning on it."

My mouth fell open in complete shock. I'd imagined Edward driving a shiny new stud-mobile, not a bucket of bolts held together by iron oxide. "Somehow I pictured you in a Jag," I said, chuckling in an attempt to smooth over my stunned reaction.

"I decided that _I _needed my money worse than Nationwide did. This little guy is ugly, but the insurance is cheap and he runs, most of the time." He shrugged and grinned.

I studied the pitiful little compact car with its colorful patchwork of sand jobs splotched along the side panels and hood. So many things about this man weren't adding up: the ratty and worn clothes (of course, they could have just been his weekend slouch clothes, but for some reason, I didn't think that they were), the piece of shit car he drove, and a monthly paycheck that I imagined to be more than I earned in a year, especially if $5,000 a pop was their standard fee. Where did his money go? Was he in debt to the Mob or something? Did he have a gambling problem? Or was he just your ordinary garden-variety cheapskate? A money-grubbing girlfriend was another possibility, but I just couldn't see it. No high-maintenance trophy babe worth her salt would be caught _dead_ in a car like that, or hang out with a guy who dressed like a bum. The more I learned about Edward, the more mysterious he became.

"He looks like a Harvey," I mused thoughtfully.

"I was thinking more along the lines of POS, but I guess Harvey will work," he said, chuckling.

I made the introductions. "Harvey, meet Henrietta. Henrietta…Harvey."

He rolled his eyes and laughed at my silliness. I loved the sound of his laughter and how it transformed his face and forced the sadness from his eyes, even if just for a few short moments.

We finally ran out of cute small talk. It was time to say goodbye. It was Saturday. I had things to do. He probably had things to do, too. He had his hands buried deep in his pockets, staring at the ground and digging the toe of his shoe into the concrete. He reminded me of a shy little boy who was too scared to ask the prettiest girl in the school to go to the prom with him. Where was the sophisticated Leather & Lace escort with the sexy lean, the tailored clothes and the smooth lines? Not that I missed him all that much. I was seeing the real Edward today, and he intrigued me much more than the high-paid hooker. Escort Edward was polished and smooth. He said and did everything perfectly, as he'd been trained to do. But the man standing before me and avoiding my eyes was normal, flawed and seemed so very lonely.

Suddenly, Alice's perky disembodied voice spoke to me inside my head: _You need to take time to smell the roses, Bella, because sooner or later, you'll inhale a bee and die._ I smiled inside. I had the smartest bestie a girl could ever ask for.

"Have you had lunch?" I asked.

He looked surprised at my question. "Uhm, no. Just coffee for breakfast."

_Go for it, Bella! This is your last chance, girlfriend. You can't just let him walk away. You'll never see him again if you do._

"My apartment isn't very far from here. I could make you something."

There it came, and I wasn't a bit surprised to see it, that glimmer of hesitation in his eyes, that inexplicable fear. My conniving inner self searched for and found the perfect carrot to dangle in front of him.

"I have the ingredients for lasagna."

He smiled, and relief flooded into the tense moment. "You're not going to put any of that eggplant and zucchini shit in it that Jake uses are you?"

"Nope. Just meat. Lots and lots of meat." I grinned and nibbled at my lip.

_Oh hell. That did NOT come out right. _Or maybe it did. Maybe my inner slut had finally slithered out of hibernation after a month of having nothing to do. Edward seemed to have that effect on me. His lips parted as his gaze lingered on my mouth. _Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh SHIT. _Who was I fooling? He intrigued me, yes. He was broken and I wanted to fix him, yes and yes. But the skank in me wanted him naked in my bed so damned bad that it wasn't even funny, a million yeses. I'd forgotten the feel of pale silk inside of me.

He swallowed and then nodded. "Sounds good." His eyes lingered over my mouth. "And maybe you can even _double_ the meat, just for me."

Oh god. Edward had an inner slut, too, and he'd just come out to play. Fireworks were exploding in my nether regions at the feel of his eyes on me and at the soft, seductiveness of his voice. Who knew that discussing lasagna in the middle of an auto dealership parking lot could be so stimulating?

I gulped, wondering if I still retained the ability to articulate an intelligent sentence. "Uh, tell Harvey to just follow Henrietta."

Edward leaned to the side, took a closer look at the rear of my car, pursed his lips and whistled softly. "With a bumper like that, Harvey will follow that chick anywhere."

We laughed, but his joke did nothing to damper the tension between us. We stared at each other for way too long. Passersby probably thought we'd lost our minds. Perhaps we had.

I said a silent apology to my mother because I was about to completely ignore her advice. For the first time in my life, I was going to go after what I wanted and do whatever I had to do to get it.

And I wanted Edward Anthony Cullen.

* * *

><p>Never in a million years had I imagined that the sophisticated man in the expensive linen suit, who'd rocked my world on my birthday, would be standing inside my small apartment, his striking incandescent eyes wandering curiously over my thrift shop décor. But with the ragged jeans and faded shirt, he blended right in with my cheap cotton curtains.<p>

"Nice apartment," he observed.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "No, it isn't, but thanks anyway. It's all I can afford right now, so I just roll with it."

He slid his eyes back to mine and held them. "There's something to be said for understated elegance."

My breath hitched at his compliment, not of my apartment, but of _me_.

"And shabby chic," I added, lowering my gaze down to his faded shirt and worn jeans.

He laughed, and I was pleased that my interior decorating reference hadn't gone completely over his head. "You got the 'shabby' part right, but I'm not sure about the 'chic' part."

I was in this too far to let my shy side hold me back. This was a time for confidence, for power, like the kind I felt when I was belting out a song and letting the music control me. I moved closer until our bodies were inches apart. He tensed slightly, but I pressed on. I touched his hand and trailed my fingertips along his fingers, his wrist, and slowly up his arm.

"For something to be shabby chic, it has to be solid and sound," I explained softly as my fingers moved up his arm and over to his chest, my eyes fixed on his. "It has to survive the passage of time and all that life throws at it. You peel back the worn layers of living and you can see the beauty and strength underneath. It's strong, but soft and comforting, too."

He sighed and there was intensity in his eyes. "I never thought of it that way."

And then he slid his hand underneath my hair and kissed me, soft at first, and then deeper, pulling my body against his and folding me into his embrace. His smell enveloped me, not the cologne he'd worn the night of my birthday, but the ordinary scent of his soap that lingered on his skin from his morning shower. I breathed him in and tightened my grip on his body. His strong arms belonged around me; his mouth should be mine and no one else's. This felt right.

He pulled away and stroked his thumb across the corner of my mouth. "I didn't shave this morning. Sorry."

Like I gave a shit about that. I pulled his face to me and covered his mouth with mine, his stubble prickling against the inside of my lips. I didn't care. Strangely, his imperfections and his shabbiness only made him _more_ attractive.

"I want you," he murmured against my mouth, and that was all it took for any last bit of lingering hesitancy on my part to evaporate.

Our lovemaking wasn't about him, like the first time he'd taken me so roughly, and solely for his own pleasure. Nor was it about my desire to please _only_ him, as had been the case later that night. Today, it was about both of us, together.

We explored each other bodies, touched and kissed each other with equal measure. I watched in rapt fascination as my nipples disappeared from my view, each alternately sucked gently into his mouth, his tongue flicking the hardened tips until I moaned from the sensations. He tasted me, gently kissing and licking my folds until I was teetering on the edge and begging him to enter me. He smiled but ignored my pleas. He was such a tease, but I loved it, and him.

I finally discovered the taste of silk when he let to take him into my mouth for the first time. When my lips touched his tip, he balled the sheet up into his fists and groaned, low and hoarse and deep. When I slid his hard shaft into my mouth as far as I could take it, breathless curses poured out of him. He stopped me way too soon, gasping painfully that he needed to be inside of me.

We were patient and loved each other as if we had all the time in the world. I gave him what I knew he needed: intimacy. I held his eyes and ran my hands across his skin everywhere I could reach. Only once did I get rough with him, digging my fingers into his ass and begging him to push deeper.

And whether he knew it or not, he gave me what I needed, too. He spoke to me quietly as he rocked his body above mine. He whispered to me that he'd missed me. That he'd thought of me all the time, even when he shouldn't have, that he'd dreamed about me. He made such sensual sounds in my ear, his warm breath blowing across my neck and face as he moved.

_He loves me._ He never said the words, but he didn't have to. His tenderness spoke for him. I could feel the love in his touch, taste it in his kisses. I heard it in his whisperings and felt it as he stroked me slowly. Never had I felt so loved and cherished.

Only when the end grew close did he get rougher, his thrusts urgent and hard. He guided my hands to the rails of my headboard, letting me know without a word that I was going to need to hold onto something solid. His hands grasped the wooden rails just above mine, and then he began pummeling my body, punishing it in the most beautiful way. I rode it with him, arching my hips up against his, matching him thrust for thrust. His rhythm faltered. He grunted painfully, his body tense and still, as he fought to hold back his release.

Breathless and dangling on the edge myself, I threaded my fingers into his hair. "Let go, Edward. Let go."

My name rolled out of his throat, gruff and with the painful longing I'd heard before. He gathered me up into his arms and drove deep into my body, catapulting me over the edge with him. I found myself near tears as the pleasure crashed through me, as his fingers dug into the tangles of my hair, as I listened to the animal sounds raging out of his mouth. I fought it, but I yearned to do what I'd urged of him: let go. Let go and just let the tears flow unimpeded. Never had I felt the urge to cry during sex, but then again, never had I felt such incredible love for another man as I did for Edward.

This was what pure joy felt like.

* * *

><p>We lay in each other's arms with the sheet tangled around us and talked, continuing where we'd left off on my birthday with our version of Twenty Questions. He wanted to know what I liked to do on a rainy day. I liked to cook. He liked to play the piano and write music. We both liked to read, nap, and we unanimously agreed that if the right person was around, then lovemaking would come first.<p>

He told me of his family. He was an only child, raised in a very strict and religious household, where music has been his best friend and had gotten him through a lot of lonely times. Luckily, his parents had nurtured his musical talents and he'd been immersed in lessons and performances from a very early age.

In turn, I told him about the dysfunctional Swans. He laughed quite a bit as I tried to put a humorous spin on my messed up childhood. When my parents had met, my mother had emotionally been in Pampers, while my dad was already wearing Depends, not a good combination. Immaturity and maturity did not go together like a 'horse and carriage'. The divorce hadn't surprised anyone, including me, their only child. Unlike Edward, my musical talent had gone unnoticed, un-nurtured, ignored. Paying bills had been a struggle; music lessons were a luxury we could have never afforded.

After awhile, we'd pretty much covered all of the harmless topics. We knew all of the fluff about each other, but none of the filler. I wanted to know where he saw himself next year, or the year after that, or even five years from now. A person's goals spoke more about who they were than anything else, in my opinion.

"Do you ever want to have kids?" I asked boldly. I knew it was a dangerous question to ask a man I'd only seen twice, well three times if I counted the scene at Bossa Nova, but I needed to know. He smiled, not even hesitating with his answer.

"Yes, I do, and more than one. I've always envisioned a bunch of kids bouncing around on my bed in the mornings and running through the house. My childhood was way too quiet."

"I never wanted to have just one either. It's lonely."

He nodded in agreement. It was good to know that we had this one very important thing in common. I could never be with a man who didn't want a family as much as I did. Even with the Swan track record, I held out hope that I could do a better job than my parents had.

"So, how long have you been living a life of crime?" he asked, chuckling softly.

I frowned, confused. "What?"

"You're a thief." He pointed at his tie hanging off the side of my mirror.

"Oh, sorry. You left it, so..." I blushed, embarrassed. "You can take it back."

He shook his head and smiled. "No, you keep it."

I sighed in contentment and snuggled in close against his body. Resting my head against his chest, I closed my eyes and just relaxed. I could lay in his arms the rest of the day and night and be perfectly happy.

He idly trailed his finger up and down my forearm. I'd noticed that Edward was a very touchy-feely kind of man, so unlike Mike in that regard_. He'd_ only bothered to touch me when he'd wanted some. Edward's hands were a constant presence on my body: fingers threading through my hair and caressing my cheek, sliding down my arm and drawing invisible circles on my stomach.

"I like the way I feel when I'm with you," he said softly.

"And how is that?"

"Hopeful," he answered. "Like anything is possible."

His answer struck me as strange, but I decided not to press him. I didn't want to scare him away with too much heavy conversation. I'd been pushing it with the children question, so I let his enigmatic statement go by without comment. But that didn't mean I didn't wonder. Hopeful about what? That he could love someone again? That he could _maybe_ trust me with his heart?

Not long after that his fingers stilled and his breathing grew deep. He'd fallen asleep. And since I was too hyper to close my eyes, I slid out of bed, careful not to disturb him. I had no time to waste lounging around between the sheets, even withthe most gorgeous hunk of man flesh I'd ever seen. I had important things to do. I smiled down at him sprawled out all over my bed, looking so sexy and happy and relaxed. Poor guy had just had a _very_ strenuous workout. He was going to be one hungry puppy when he woke up.

* * *

><p>"Who needs an alarm clock when you have Mozart and lasagna?" Edward said, wandering into the kitchen just as I was pulling the lasagna from the oven. He was dressed only in his black knit boxers with his hair stuck out in all directions like someone had given him noogies. <em>Adorable.<em>

"I always cook to Mozart."

He looked at me with this strange, intent gaze and then smiled. "Really? You cook to classical music?"

"Yeah. Music is not just something to enjoy, it's actually functional, too."

The sweetest, most quizzical look swept across his face. "Functional?"

I laughed, pulled off my oven mitts and tossed them on the stove, and then turned off Mozart's 40th Symphony. Leaning against the cheap formica counter top, I explained my quirky philosophy about music. "I cook to Mozart because it's been proven that his music stimulates the brain. You can play Mozart for elementary school kids before a test, and they score higher. And…" I shrugged. "It makes me _cook_ better. I clean house to rap. The beat is perfect for dusting and vacuuming. I drive to slow music, any kind." I grinned. "It keeps me from getting a speeding ticket. I work out to pop because it's perky and rhythmic and it makes me think I can actually get this scrawny body of mine into shape. I listen to slow, romantic country songs in the bathtub, and Marvin Gaye when I….uh…" I stopped, realizing I'd almost completely gone overboard into TMI territory.

"Double-click your own mouse?" he supplied, chuckling.

My face went hot with embarrassment, but Edward didn't seem to notice. His smile had faded and he was staring at me so strangely again.

"Do you like the symphony?" he asked quietly.

"I love it, but the tickets are a little pricey." I gestured at my shabby little kitchen, and he got the point. I loved the symphony, the ballet, concerts, and all of that, but my funds for such indulgences were pretty much nonexistent, and I refused to let Alice throw money down on me all the time.

He leaned against the door jamb and just stared at me, his eyes focused and intent. I imagined if I'd been standing closer to him, they'd be dark and penetrating.

"What?" I asked, after the silent staring went on for way too long.

"To quote someone near and dear to both our hearts: 'I'm in fucking love'."

My heart thumped wildly in my chest, and chills ran all over me. Then he laughed, and the seriousness of the moment was gone. He was making fun of Jacob and his silly antics, not professing his love for _me._ So, I did the only thing I could do. I laughed with him.

"The lasagna's ready. Let's eat."

* * *

><p>"So, how did you and Jake meet?"<p>

We'd finished eating, the kitchen was all neat and tidy again, and we were now lounging on my second-hand sofa, my feet propped up on the coffee table and his head in my lap. It had seemed like a pretty innocuous question, but Edward suddenly looked uncomfortable. I started to change the subject, but he beat me to the punch. Despite the fact that he seemed hesitant, he started to talk.

He'd been visiting friends in La Push, an Indian reservation in Washington state, when he'd first met him. Jake had been seventeen at the time and still in high school, Edward twenty. They'd crossed paths accidentally and had struck up a friendly conversation. It hadn't taken Edward long to realize that Jake was not where he needed to be. He was intelligent, restless and bored with life on the reservation. He found that he liked the dark-haired boy with the quick smile and the jokes and had enjoyed the short time he'd spent with him.

It wasn't until two years later that things changed. Edward returned to La Push, (and he didn't explain why, but I could have sworn I saw a deep sadness in his eyes as he spoke). Jake was nineteen by then, and when Edward sought him out to see how he was doing, he was troubled by what he found. Jake was floundering. He was the sole caregiver for his father, who was wheelchair-bound from diabetes, and was doing nothing constructive with his life. Edward suggested college but Jake mumbled something about not having the money and then changed the subject. Eventually, talk turned to Edward's life in the big city and what it was like. He asked specifically what Edward did for a living. When Edward told him that he'd just gotten hired as an escort for Leather and Lace, Jake's eyes lit up with interest. He peppered Edward with questions: How much did he make? What were the hours? The working conditions? The requirements for the job? When Edward left the reservation later that week, Jake left with him, intent on using the money from the escort job to pay for his education himself.

"With Jake being Native American, he could have gone to college for free," I observed. "The government would have given him a full-ride."

Edward pulled his head up out of my lap and sat up beside me. "You don't understand Jacob Black. He refuses to take money from the government _because_ he's Native American. Trust me, I argued with him until I was blue in the face, but I couldn't budge him. He's proud, Bella. He wants to make his own way in this world. He doesn't want anything handed to him on a silver platter. He's one of the most dedicated and driven men that I've ever known, and he's going to make good, but I think his pride might be causing a little friction between him and Alice."

Now certain things made sense. Alice had expressed her extreme frustration to me about Jake's refusal to let her spend money on him. Bestowing gifts and helping people when they needed it made her happy. She needed to do it like other people needed to breathe. She was metaphorically pulling her hair out at the moment because Jake had refused to let her buy him a new car. I'd tried to tell her beforehand that a car was probably a bit much to start off with, that maybe a tie would have been more appropriate, but she hadn't heeded my advice, and Jake had flipped completely out.

"I tried to tell her the Ferrari was a bad idea."

Edward snickered. "I've never seen Jake's face turn that shade of purple before. He was furious, but they were cooing at each other on Skype two hours later, so he apparently got over it."

I could picture Alice cooing, but the thought of Jake cooing made me laugh.

"Yeah, I know," Edward said, rolling his eyes. "But, enough about _them_. Come here, you." He grinned, grabbed me around the waist and pulled me onto his lap for a nice bit of garlic-y kissing.

"Mmmm." I was wearing a long, baggy t-shirt that barely made it over my thighs and tiny cotton panties. I felt him getting hard through the thin fabric of his boxers, and helped matters along by grinding his boner.

"I love the way you feel," he murmured in between the kisses, his hands roaming tenderly over my body.

"I love the way you taste," I murmured back, devouring his mouth.

His hands made their way to my ass. He dug his fingers in and pushed his hips hard against me. "I want inside of you."

It was at that very most inconvenient moment that Dracula waltzed in the room and interrupted our make-out session. The most horrible ringtone I'd ever heard, obviously turned up as loud as it would go, blasted through the apartment, causing me to jump.

"That has to be yours," I groaned and then laughed. "A Count Dracula ringtone? Seriously?"

"Gotcha," he said, grinning. "It's not Dracula. It's Bach's _Tocatta and Fugue_."

"Whatever. Ignore it," I said, although I wondered if that was even possible.

"I can't ignore it. Sorry."

Without ceremony, Edward maneuvered me off of his lap and crossed the room to find his phone. He dug it out of his jeans pocket and thankfully the haunting organ music came to an abrupt halt.

I watched him punch a button, bring the phone to his ear, and then everything changed. He went from joking about his creepy ringtone to pure, unadulterated fury in a matter of seconds. Whoever was on the other end of that conversation was seriously ruining Edward's day.

"Give me 30 minutes!" he barked angrily into the phone, and then he disconnected. "I have to go." He whipped the jeans out of the floor and yanked them up his legs. "Where's my shirt?!"

I jumped up to help him, dashing into the bedroom and picking it up from the floor.

"My socks!" he yelled from the living room.

"There in here!" I shouted back. I gathered everything up and dashed back into the living room.

Edward was angry, nearly as angry as he'd been that night at Bossa Nova. He was also frantic.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't talk about it." He whipped around, searching for something, and found his shoes near the door.

"Is someone sick or hurt?"

"I told you I can't talk about it!" he snapped angrily.

_Alrighty then. _ Message received loud and clear.

He pushed his feet into his Reeboks, checked his pockets for his keys and then headed to the door.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked, giving this trying-to-be-understanding-thing one last shot.

"Nobody can help," he said. His voice sounded so bitter that I barely recognized it.

I moved closer to him, thinking I would give him a hug of support before he left, but he pushed me away.

"I'm sorry." He grimaced like he was suddenly in physical pain. "I shouldn't have done this; I had no right. This is all on me, my fault. I'm so sorry. Goodbye, Bella."

He walked out and slammed the door behind him. That 'goodbye' was final. I'd heard it in his voice. One step forward and ten steps back.

Edward Cullen had just walked out of my life for the second time.

I cried.


	11. Chapter 11: Emily

**Chapter 11: Emily**

_**~ Three weeks after B & E's Saturday ~**_

**EDWARD…**

The doorbell rang just as I stepped out of the shower. Jake was in the kitchen making coffee, so he could deal with whoever was at our door this early on a Saturday morning. I glanced at the casual side of my closet, which was pretty much bare, and chose a pair of jeans and a random shirt. Emily didn't care what I wore, so wardrobe choices were pretty simple. _If only everything else in my life was that easy. _ I'd just begun the hunt for two socks that might have remotely matched when all hell broke loose in the kitchen.

"Holy shit! Come and look at this!"

I trotted into the kitchen and it looked like a bomb had gone off inside of a UPS store. White Styrofoam peanuts were scattered all over the table and tiled floor. Ripped cardboard pieces from the shipping carton were flung everywhere, and Jake was staring at the middle of the table, his hands on top of his head, grinning his ass off.

"Look at that! LOOK. AT. _THAT!"_

I looked at it. Shook my head. I wasn't sure what to say. "Who's it for? And who's it from?" was all I could come up with.

"It's mine! It's my birthday tomorrow, remember? It's my gift from Alice, and it's fucking _amazing! It's perfect!" _

I walked around the table to get a look at the front. Yep. It was exactly what I'd thought it was. I frowned at him, confused. "Okay, you go completely ballistic when she offers to buy you a car, but you're ecstatic when she buys you a dollhouse?"

He glared at me like I was the biggest idiot on the planet. "It's not a dollhouse. It's a scaled replica of Fallingwater."

I gave him a What-the-hell-is-Fallingwater? look.

"It's Frank Lloyd Wright's most famous house, _and_ my favorite of his designs. He built it on top of a waterfall. And look!" He pointed at the bottom of the thing. "It even has a built-in fountain that looks just like the actual waterfall! I swear to God, I have to marry this girl. She's a keeper, a fucking keeper."

An envelope was lying among the scattered peanuts, with "My darling Tay Tay" written across the front. I picked it up and laughed. "Tay Tay?"

He snatched it from me, frowning. "It's her nickname for me. You know…_Taylor_…my middle name? Tay Tay?"

Oh, the teasing I could have employed using that little tidbit of information, but I decided to leave it for another day. I had a long day ahead of me and, unfortunately, didn't have time to indulge myself.

"You'll probably get some nice birthday sex out of this," I observed, smirking.

He sighed, his excitement over his gift, suddenly gone. "Nope. No birthday sex. We haven't slept together yet."

My mouth dropped open. They'd been a couple for over six weeks and hadn't had sex? I wasn't sure whether I should ask. Luckily, I didn't have to. Jake answered my unspoken question for me.

"I can't be with her while I'm hooking," he said quietly, his mouth set in a hard, stubborn line. "And that's something I've needed to talk to you about for awhile now. I just hadn't figured out how to bring it up." He hesitated, looking at the floor, and then finally raised his gaze to meet mine. "I need to drop down a pay grade."

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. Jake and I had an agreement: we shared expenses, we shared jobs. If he dropped down a pay grade, we'd have trouble paying the bills, and I'd have to work the sex jobs alone.

"Don't worry about the bills," he said, reading my mind. "I have that all figured out already. I can trade down and get a more sensible car. I'm going to drop the gym membership. I can run and do push-ups here, and I don't have to be such a clothes whore. I can cut way back on that. I'll be able to pay my share. You won't have to fork out any extra. I know you can't afford to do that."

I nodded, but tightening his belt wouldn't change the fact that I'd be working alone from now on. The thought that I'd have to actually pull the load of an entire evening all by myself made me sick to my stomach. I was barely able to tolerate the small part I played on these "dates" as it was, even with Jake doing most of the work.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking away. "But I never even considered how this job would affect my relationships." He shook his head. "All I saw was the money, and a way to get myself through school without debt. I never even thought about falling in love." He raked his fingers through his spiked hair. "I can't be with Alice until I'm clean. You know what I mean?"

His dark, pleading eyes found mine. I knew what he meant. I understood. How many women were there in the world who could actually love men like us? If Jake had found one, he needed to do whatever he had to do to keep her.

"I can't fuck some strange woman on Thursday night, and then be with Alice for the first time on Friday night. I need to be completely out of that shit first. Completely clean," he continued, taking my silence as a sign that I objected.

"I understand. You have to do what you have to do." Nobody knew that better than me.

He exhaled, looking enormously relieved. "Thanks. I appreciate the understanding. I know I'm deserting you, but I don't know what else to do. I want Alice in my life, and I can't keep doing this and have her, too."

I nodded, busying myself with picking peanuts off of the table and putting them in a neat pile.

"You're spending the day with Emily?"

"Of course." I spent every Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday with her. He knew that.

I saw him swallow down whatever it was he was about to say. He objected to my relationship with Emily. She was a bone of contention between us and _had_ been for a very long time. I knew how he felt, and he knew how I felt. I was relieved that he'd decided to keep his mouth shut for once. I didn't need an argument with him to start my day. It was going to be hard enough without that.

"Tell her I said 'hey'."

I nodded. "I will."

* * *

><p>I leaned against the doorjamb and watched Emily. Some of my most cherished memories came from watching her when she was unaware of my presence. It was pouring the rain outside and her gaze was focused intently on the windows and the rivulets of water streaking down the glass. She loved the rain, always had.<p>

_"Does the sun ever shine in this place?" I asked, sounding like a spoiled, whiny child who was stuck indoors with nothing to do. _

_She turned her deep brown eyes in my direction and smiled. "When you were born, you cried, and the world rejoiced. When you die, the world cries, and you rejoice. A beautiful soul has died somewhere today. The rain is just the world crying for their loss."_

"_That's beautiful, Em." I folded her into my arms and held her tight. This woman that I had fallen so blindly in love with was my sun, she shone so brightly in my life that the rain couldn't chase away my happiness for very long. We held each other and silently stared out the window and watched the world mourn._

I crossed the room and sat down beside of her.

"Emily."

Her gaze slowly made its way from the window to my face. The corners of her mouth twitched, and I smiled in return. She was more alert than usual. It was going to be a good day.

"You look so beautiful today." I ran my fingers lightly through her hair, and brushed them down her high, sculpted cheekbone. "You and Rosemary must have had yourselves a spa day," I commented, smiling. Her hair was silken, straight and shining. Her skin glowed, the usual ashen pallor hidden beneath skillfully applied, but subtle, makeup. I leaned in to deliver a soft kiss to her forehead and the smell of her favorite shampoo washed over me.

"_Mmmm, why do I have a sudden craving for Strawberry Shortcake?" My nose was nestled deep in her thick hair and I was drowning in the smell._

_She giggled and wriggled away from me. "That's my shampoo, silly. I love strawberries, everything about them: the taste, the texture, the smell. They're my favorite."_

_I scooted closer and buried my nose in her hair again. "Mmmm, then I think strawberries are my new favorite, too."_

"_I'll get the whipped cream." Her deliciously seductive laughter sent a thrill through my body._

"Eh…"

Moderately severe brain injury has a language all its own that only those intimately acquainted with it can understand. It had taken Emily years of therapy to get where she was today, and dogged patience on my part to learn her small vocabulary, but we were finally at a point where we could communicate quite well with each other.

"Eh…" She repeated my name and tried to raise her arm. Her movements were jerky and uncoordinated, much like an infant who had yet to learn to use his limbs. The part of her brain that controlled muscle movement and speech had been severely damaged in the accident.

Regardless, I understood her unspoken request. I knew what she wanted: to touch me. I guided her hand to my face and uncurled her fingers, placing them against my cheek. Her mouth twitched at the corners, the only smile she'd ever been able to manage. I watched her eyes soften, brought her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles.

"Painted fingernails? You and Rosemary _definitely_ had some girl time, didn't you? I'll bet if I pull off those socks, your toenails are painted, too."

Her eyes glistened and danced; I knew she was laughing inside, but unable to express it verbally. A great deal of her communication was through her beautiful, deep brown eyes, which were still as mesmerizing to me as they'd been when I'd first looked into them four years ago.

"I've thought about you all week," I said softly, continuing to hold her hand in mine. "And about that hiking trip we took to Forks way back when. Remember?"

She made her sound for 'yes', which in no way resembled the actual word.

"I really can't believe you talked me into that," I said, chuckling. "A city boy like me traipsing through the woods for five miles in brand new hiking boots? It's a wonder it turned out as good as it did."

"_How many more miles is it to where ever it is that we're going?" I groused._

"_We're not going anywhere in particular, Edward. We're just walking, communing with nature, enjoying the scenery," she said over her shoulder as I trudged along behind her. My feet hurt and I was dog tired. She was seriously kicking my ass in the physical fitness department. _

"_If you keep this up, you're going to have to carry me out of here on your back," I grumbled. _

_Her laughter rang throughout the quiet woods, causing a group of birds to take flight through the trees above our heads. _

"_Oh, look!" She pointed and took off at a trot, heading for a break in the dense undergrowth._

"Do you remember the meadow?"

"Fuh…ul.."

"You remember the flowers?"

She answered with her 'yes' sound.

"I'd never seen so many flowers in one place, except maybe in the park, but those were planted. These were wild and so colorful: purples, pinks, whites, and so much green."

"_Look at this!" She danced around in the center of the meadow, spinning and twirling her arms in complete abandon. She looked so free and happy. _

_It was beautiful, but the best part about the meadow was that it was dry. Since I'd been in Forks it seemed like I'd been nothing but wet, but the sun had evaporated the rain from the grass to the point that we could actually sit down without soaking our clothes. I sank to the flowered-covered ground in exhaustion, sprawling out with my legs and arms flung where ever they landed. I looked up at the crystal clear blue sky and sighed in contentment as the sun's rays beamed down and warmed my exposed skin. _

_Suddenly, a shirt landed on my face. I yelped, ripped it off and looked up to see Emily standing over me, topless and smiling seductively. _

"_Uh, Emily, what the-" _

_I never got to finish my sentence._

"Yeah, it was your idea, remember, to strip off all of our clothes," I admonished her playfully. Her eyes danced with mischief. "And you should have told me about the mosquitoes, too."

Apparently, mosquitoes didn't like the taste of beautiful Quileute women, but they _loved _chowing down on pale white Caucasian males. I'd scratched for days.

"_Now this is what I call communing with nature," I said with a sigh of contentment. _

_We lay in each other's arms and stared up at the blue sky, our bodies tired, but relaxed, from our lovemaking. I wanted to lay naked in the grass with her forever, feel her smooth skin beneath my fingers forever, look into those amazing brown eyes forever._

"_Emily, I want to ask you something."_

_She rolled over and propped herself up on my chest, her hair fanning out all over me and tickling my skin. She silently waited for my question with curiosity in her eyes. It was a serious question I had to ask, but first things first…_

"_Could you look and see what the hell is crawling around on my leg?" _

_She laughed, twisted her body around and brushed something off of my knee. _

"_What was it?" _

"_Trust me, you don't want to know," she said, snickering. "Now, ask me your question my darling Edward. You have me so curious now."_

_I'd rehearsed it a million times, and never did I imagine I'd be saying the words while lying naked in the middle of a meadow in Forks, Washington, with grass poking me in the ass, and tiny creatures of unknown origin crawling around on my skin. My life with Emily was anything but predictable._

"_I want you to go to New York with me in the fall, as my wife."_

I leaned down and kissed her cheek, lingering and breathing in the scent of her hair. She tried to turn her face towards me, but was having difficulty. I gently tugged at her chin until her eyes were even with mine. They were soft with the memories.

"You made me the happiest man on earth when you said you'd marry me," I whispered, delivering a tender kiss to her nose.

Her eyes followed me as I pulled back away from her face. She watched me intently.

"I want you know that I love you just as much now as I did that day when I asked you to marry me. The accident didn't change my feelings for you. You're still my Emily, the beautiful, exotic woman I fell head-over-heels in love with four years ago. Nothing's changed for me. _Nothing._ I love you so much."

"Uhh…v…"

I smiled at hearing her sound for 'love'. She'd never been able to clearly articulate the complete sentence, 'I love you', not even close. But this was _her_ sound for expressing her love for me, and I lived to hear it. She never failed to say it to me, _if_ she was feeling well enough to communicate that particular day. Some days I counted myself lucky if she managed my name. Days like today were incredibly special.

"You know what I think? I think we should finally tie the knot. I promised to marry you four years ago, and I think it's high time I kept my promise."

Her eyes suddenly pooled with tears, and in seconds they broke loose, dripping down her face like the rain coursing down the window panes.

"Oh no, don't cry," I whispered hastily, brushing the tears from her face with my thumb. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just want to keep my promise to you. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?"

I busied myself by wiping her tears from her cheeks as I anxiously awaited her answer. I had no idea how she felt about marrying me now. Four years ago, she'd been ecstatic. We'd started making wedding plans as soon as we'd got back from our hiking trip. But now, after the accident, so many of her inner feelings were locked inside of her forever because of her inability to verbalize them.

"Will you marry me?" I asked again.

She made her sound for 'yes'. Her mouth twitched, and the tears erupted anew.

"We'll get you a beautiful new dress, and Rosemary will fix your hair." I wiped her tears away and then fingered the silky brunette strands as I continued. "I doubt Old Quil will be able to make the trip here, but I'll find a preacher to marry us. It'll be legal, I promise."

Her mouth worked, as she laboriously tried to form the beginnings of a sound. I waited patiently as she struggled with the word.

"Buh..d."

It had taken me several months of trial and error, and a lot of frustration on both our parts, to interpret that particular sound. Finally, and with much relief, I'd accidentally stumbled upon her meaning. That sound was her word for 'bed'. She wanted me to lie down beside her.

I pried off my shoes and eased beneath the sheet. Very carefully, so as not to put a kink in her catheter, I turned her on her side, nestling her close, her head lying against my chest and my arm snaked around her shoulder. I guided her hand to my stomach; she always liked to hold onto my shirt, for some reason. I pried open her fingers and then helped her to close them around the fabric. She relaxed against me and we began to talk.

As I did every time I visited her, I filled her in on the details of my life, as much as I was able to without revealing my association with Leather and Lace. I was determined she'd never know how I earned the money that paid for her care.

Later, I read to her until it was time for her dinner. Then we talked some more, until she finally fell asleep in my arms.

* * *

><p>I met up with Rosemary, my favorite of Emily's private nurses, as I was leaving.<p>

"She's asleep. We had a very nice visit today."

Rosemary smiled in acknowledgement and proceeded to fill me in on what I'd missed since Wednesday. Emily had had a very good week since I'd last seen her. No seizures for once or any other problems outside of the usual for a patient who was bedridden.

"I wanted to ask a favor of you."

I explained about my decision to finally marry Emily, and that I hoped we could do it next Sunday. I asked Rosemary if she'd buy Emily a dress in emerald green, her favorite color. I started for my wallet when she stopped me.

"Don't you _dare_ insult me by trying to give me money," she huffed, and then her voice softened. "_I'll _buy my precious baby a wedding dress, the loveliest one I can find, and some nice flowers for her room, too. But are you sure her mother wouldn't want to be the one to pick out her dress?"

I shook my head. Emily's parents no longer approved of me, even though I paid for her care and the round-the-clock private nurses. They didn't object to _that, _they objected to where the money _came _from. Involving my own parents was out of the question, too. They vehemently disapproved of my current lifestyle and had disowned me as their son.

"It's just going to be us two, probably Jake, and you, of course. No family on either side."

Rosemary clucked and shook her head in disapproval. "I don't understand people. There is no better man than you. When I think of what you've done to make sure Emily is cared for…" She shook her head again and raised her chin. "I would be proud to call you my son _or _my son-in-law. Any other man would have selfishly walked away from a situation like this, but not you."

I grimaced at her compliment. She had no idea how undeserving I was of her praise. It was, after all, my fault that Emily was here.

"Thank you," I said, reluctant to accept her compliment, but knowing it was the expected thing to say. "I'll call you later in the week and we'll discuss the details."

"Don't you worry about a thing. My precious baby girl is going to have a beautiful wedding."

* * *

><p>Jake was at his usual perch at the kitchen table with all his school paraphernalia spread out around him. He looked none too happy.<p>

"How's Emily?" he asked, despite the fact that he looked ready to explode on someone.

"We had a very good visit. She's was exceptionally verbal today."

He nodded. "That's good."

I decided to ignore him. He'd eventually tell me what was bothering him without me having to pester it out of him. I didn't have long to wait. In the time it took for me to change into some sweats and a t-shirt he'd decided to share.

"I talked to Alice this afternoon. You know, to thank her for my gift? She was _very_ upset."

I waited for him to elaborate, but evidently he wasn't going to until I asked. I sighed. "Upset why?"

"Apparently, Bella has been an emotional wreck for the past three weeks: crying for no reason, refusing to talk to anyone, just hibernating in her apartment in full-out depressed mode. Alice finally got it out of her today what was wrong."

He glared at me across the room. Shit. I did _not_ want to deal with this tonight.

"Why didn't you mention that you'd spent a Saturday afternoon with her?" he asked, his accusatory glare doing nothing but pissing me off.

"I wasn't aware that it was any of your business!" I snapped.

He snatched his pencil out from behind his ear and threw it down on the table. He shot up from his seat and slammed his palms down on the table. "Don't give me that it's-none-of-my-business bullshit! Bella spilled her guts and told Alice everything. You guys spent nearly the whole day together: making love, she cooked for you, laughing, talking, getting to know each other even more, then BAM! You just up and leave without any explanation, and she hasn't heard one peep out of you since! You make the girl think that there's something between you and then you just walk out on her?! That's fucked up, Edward, and you know it!"

"I left because of Emily!" I yelled back. "I spend every single Saturday with Emily and always have. You _know_ that! Then, one Saturday, I decide I have a right to be selfish, that _my_ wants and _my_ needs were more important than hers, and look what happened! She was upset I wasn't there, and she started seizing! _That's_ why I left Bella's like I did!"

Fuming, I turned my back on him and stared sightlessly at the wall, forcing myself to calm down. "I didn't intend for it to happen, all right? How the hell was I supposed to know I'd run into her at a car dealership, the same one I use. But, don't worry. It's never going to happen again." I turned around to face him. "I'm marrying Emily next Sunday and you're invited."

I'd expected him to explode all over again at my announcement, but it had quite the opposite effect. A look of profound sadness overtook his face, like I'd just told him I was dying of cancer.

"Edward." He shook his head and sighed. "Why would you do that?"

I couldn't believe he could be so dense. "Because I love her? Because she's my fiancé, and I made a promise to her four years ago that I've never kept?"

"She can't be a wife to you," he said softly. "She can't provide a home for you, or emotionally support you when you need it. She can't have your children. She can't even love you the way a man needs it. I'm not trying to be cruel. I'm just laying it out like it is. You have to let go of the life you had planned with her. It's not going to happen. Bella can give you the life you want. You need to walk away from this, and give her a chance to make you happy."

I felt the heat of my temper searing up my neck and into my face. It took a few moments for me to calm myself enough to respond. Screaming at him wouldn't accomplish anything. "Think about what you're saying," I said, and even though my temper had cooled, my voice still trembled. "Really think about it. You're asking me to walk away from her, to just turn my back on her and go merrily on my way and be with Bella." I shook my head, astonished that he could even suggest such a thing, that he would even _think_ I could do something so heartless. "If she were in a coma or had zero brain activity, maybe I could do it, _maybe._ But she knows me. She talks to me. She told me today that she loves me, Jake. And you're telling me I should just walk away? What would that do to her? What would it do to _me?_ Do you actually think I could, in good conscience, be with someone else knowing that the woman I love is lying in a bed somewhere incapacitated and wondering what the hell happened to me, and why I never come to visit her anymore?!"

Jake grimaced and looked away. He knew he was wrong on this one. He'd visited Emily many times over the past two years and had talked with her himself. She adored him and he always managed to make her smile with his silliness.

He cursed softly and then sighed. "You're right," he admitted. "Okay, then why don't you just sit down with Bella and tell her the truth. Tell her about the accident and let her be part of the decision."

The ironic laughter burst out of me before I could stop it. "Don't you think I've considered telling Bella everything? I have, but it won't work. Oh, I can see Bella being very understanding and sympathetic, because she's that kind of a person. What I _can't_ see is her sharing me with Emily. I'm going to spend every Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday with her, no matter what. Do you honestly think Bella would be fine with that? What woman in her right mind is going to be in a relationship with a man who is in love with someone else? And you _know_ she'd eventually want me to quit Leather and Lace, which I will never do because of Emily. I am not going to allow her care to fall into the hands of the state. She'll end up in some awful nursing home somewhere, and I will _not_ let that happen!"

There was no need for Jake to respond. I could see how he felt from the expression on his face. Not even considering the fact that Bella would probably be understanding of my situation with Emily, Jake knew I spoke the truth when it came to Leather and Lace, or else he would have never have suggested he drop down a pay grade himself. No woman wanted a prostitute for a boyfriend or a husband, and a prostitute was what I was, and what I intended to stay for as long as Emily needed me.

"You're looking for a simple solution to something that just doesn't have one," I said sadly. "I _do_ love Bella, but I love Emily too, and my first commitment was to _her_. That's not going to change for _anyone_."

Jake expelled a deep, frustrated sigh and dropped back into his seat. "You need to do something about Bella, then. According to Alice, she's an emotional mess. You've got to fix it somehow."

Jake was right. I should have never allowed myself to feel anything for Bella. It was my fault she was hurting. _Everything_ was my fault.

"Give me her phone number."

* * *

><p><span><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> I have no personal experience with traumatic brain injury, just what I read in my research, and talking with an RN friend of mine who specialized in this kind of care for children. Any medical mistakes are solely my responsibility.


	12. Chapter 12: The Park

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I just wanted to set the record straight on one thing before we begin: just because a person has suffered a traumatic brain injury does NOT mean that they are mentally incapacitated. It depends upon the severity of the injury as well as its location. Emily is aware of everything going on around her the majority of the time. She cannot verbalize most of her thoughts; she has limited movement in her limbs; she suffers from seizures. This does NOT, however, mean that she is a mental vegetable. In this story, _**she is completely aware**, _which is one of the reasons Edward refuses to take Jake's advice and walk away from her. It would be cruel for him to do that to her, and I could not love the Edward I created in this story if he were that selfish and uncaring. Also, if Edward wanted to marry her and she could give consent (which she can in this story), then the marriage would absolutely be legal.

Also, I want remind everyone that Saga Edward was a flawed character. Yes, we loved him dearly, and we loved how much he loved and cherished Bella, but we must acknowledge that Edward made many bad decisions when it came to her. He had good intentions, but he often made important decisions without even consulting her, always thinking that _he_ knew what was best. Keep that in mind as you read this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: The Park<strong>

_**~ Thursday morning ~**_

**EDWARD…**

I hated shaving. Not because I was lazy or preferred the stubbled look to smooth, but because I was forced to stare at my own reflection while doing it. I avoided my gaze as much as possible while trying not to think about what I had to do in less than two hours. Hurting people was something I'd always tried to avoid, but I seemed to have gotten quite good at it the last four years.

"_Hey! What happened to being old-fashioned and waiting for our wedding night?" I asked, as Emily slowly unbuttoned my shirt. _

"_There is no way I can wait four days." _

_Neither could I. We took our time undressing each other, lingering over each kiss, running our fingers over each other's skin. Despite the oppressive heat, we were cuddled close, the overworked fan in the corner blowing a tepid breeze throughout the bedroom. _

"_So, when it rains, the world is mourning a death," I said in between kisses. "What's the world doing when the temperature is in the upper 80's and the humidity is one hundred percent?" _

_She laughed. "The Quileutes don't have a profound explanation for that. It's just hot as hell."_

_She always had a way of making me smile, even when I was miserable. I tugged at her arm. "Come here, you." _

_She grinned and maneuvered her body over mine until she was straddling my hips, her long, lithe legs spread open, giving me a very enticing view. In a matter of moments, I was sliding inside of her. I gasped at the feel of her, so hot and tight._

_She moaned as she took me deeper. "Mmmm, if God had a dick, this is what it would feel like."_

_I rose up and gaped at her, sputtering in disbelief. "Emily, that's sacrilegious! Don't say that!" _

_She pushed me back down on the bed and then leaned forward until her breasts were brushing against my chest and her mouth was hovering just inches away from mine. "God created sex and He didn't make it feel good by accident. He knew what He was doing. He understands."_

_I shook my head and laughed softly at her logical reasoning. "Just don't say that around my parents."_

"_Now that would be something to see, wouldn't it?" She giggled and began to move._

I looked at myself with disgust. It was wasted energy reliving that day. How many times had I gone over it in my mind the past four years? Too many to count, and every fucking time it ended the same way, with Emily lying on a gurney near death, her body broken and bleeding, and me trying to get to her while arms held me back. I'd wanted to hold her, thinking if I could talk to her, if she could hear my voice, then maybe she wouldn't die. But she'd been whisked away from me before I could say a word.

"That's over and done with," I snapped at my reflection in the mirror.

I needed to stop thinking of what couldn't be changed and concentrate on what I was going to say to Bella. I hated myself even more for the hurt I was about to inflict upon her, but it had to be done. I had to cut all ties, a clean break. I couldn't let her continue to think that there was something between us, no matter what I had to do to accomplish it.

"It's what's best for _her_," I whispered to the clean-shaven face in the mirror. My wants and needs were irrelevant now. I needed to remove myself from Bella's life completely and let her find someone else to love. The last thing she needed was someone like me, with all of my baggage, pulling her down.

"It's for the best," I whispered to the tired eyes looking back at me.

* * *

><p><strong>BELLA…<strong>

What did one wear to an official dumping? My bed was littered with discarded outfits, and my closet was nearly empty. And why was I getting so worked up over this? It wasn't like this was a date. His abrupt words on the phone had made that perfectly clear.

"_We need to talk." _

"_What about?" As if I didn't know. _

"_Not on the phone. Can you meet me at the park Thursday afternoon, around one, near the duck pond?"_

It was hot outside, so a sun dress seemed perfect for a conversation in the park. I held the frilly light blue number up to my shoulders and sneered. It made me look like Paris Hilton, minus the brain. I'd roast in jeans, and shorts and a halter top seemed too informal for a girl about to get the relationship middle finger. What I really needed right now was some black emo clothes to match the color of my emotions.

I'd spent a couple of weeks crying around my apartment, indulging myself in a pity party of mammoth proportions, with Alice bugging the hell out of me trying to find out what was wrong. 'What have I done to deserve being treated like this?' was all I'd thought. It had been nothing but boo-hoo city and 'woe is poor little old me' for over two weeks. But one day, I just stopped. I stopped the crying, stopped the moping, stopped the ridiculous feeling-sorry-for-myself shit. I just stopped. That's when the anger crept in.

I hadn't done _anything_ to deserve this kind of treatment. I'd been nothing but good to this man. I'd loved him as best as I'd known how. This was obviously Edward's deal, not mine. He didn't want me, and once I accepted that, things began to improve. All that was left now was for him to admit it to my face and perhaps explain why I wasn't good enough for him. I wanted to _see_ him say it.

I decided on a pair of blue mid-calf Capri pants and a plain white cotton t-shirt—nothing special, or seductive. I wasn't going to face him in full-out slut mode and try to make him regret his decision. My inner beotch, however, was a different story. _She_ was wearing all black, with chains, and dangling safety pins for earrings, the whole nine emo yards. She was bad-ass in black lace and ready to rumble. She was my shield, my strength. I hoped I didn't disappoint her. Being pissed at Edward in my bedroom was much easier than being pissed while looking into those mesmerizing blue-gray eyes.

"You gotta help me out here, girlfriend," I whispered to my reflection in the mirror. "Don't let me make an idiot of myself in front of him. And whatever you do, don't you DARE let me cry or beg."

That's when the tears started. I stood in front of the mirror and watched myself break down. _It's okay, Bella. Get it out now where no one can see. Get it all out._ I did. I let it all out, cried until there was nothing soft left inside of me.

I took a deep breath, let it out, grabbed my keys and left.

* * *

><p>He was sitting on a concrete bench near the walking path staring off into the distance. Even in profile, he was beautiful. His hair was mussed more than usual and he was dressed in what I'd come to view as his normal clothes: ratty jeans and a faded t-shirt. I had to force myself to remember that this was the man who'd shut me out of his life and who'd turned his back on something that could have been wonderful for both of us, and he'd treated me horribly while doing it.<p>

I took a deep breath and walked over to the bench, sitting down beside him and staring off into the distance just like him. I sensed movement from him, maybe it could have been a flinch. I wasn't sure, since I refused to look his way. After several moments of silence, he stood up.

"Walk with me." Without waiting for me to agree or disagree, he strode off toward the trees that surrounded the duck pond. With no other alternative available, I followed him. He stopped near a cluster of hardwoods and stared off into the distance. We had yet to look at each other. I was dreading that moment when our eyes finally met.

The silence was dragging on far too long. I was way past ready to get this over with. "So, are we just going to look at the ducks all day or what?" That was the moment I finally turned and looked at his face, just in time to see the bones in his jaw clench tight.

He turned and faced me and his eyes were not the eyes of the man I'd known. They weren't mesmerizing and soft; they were hard, icy and empty.

"It's come to my attention that you've been upset because of me." His voice wasn't the velvet I was used to. It was cold and detached. The emo bitch in me rose up in reaction to his callous demeanor.

"And what reason would I have to be upset?" I snapped sarcastically.

"It's my fault, of course," he said, ignoring my smart-assed attempt to make him feel guilty. "I accept full responsibility for everything that has happened. I acted very unprofessionally on the night of your birthday, and for that I apologize."

_He's apologizing for sharing his true self with me, for giving me one of the most special nights of my life? He's sorry for that?_

"Leather and Lace has very strict rules regarding escorts and clients," he continued, his voice still as cool and detached as before. "There has to be a distance maintained between us and the women we service. I let you get too close to me. That was a mistake, _my_ mistake."

_Now he's saying it was all just a big mistake? _"It didn't feel like a mistake to me. It felt very right at the time, and I think you felt the same way."

He shook his head and a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Being an escort is 99% acting, making the woman you're with feel special, even if she isn't, making her feel comfortable and at ease, making her feel attractive and wanted. I'll admit that you were an exception to that rule. You really were special and very beautiful. I wanted you so badly. I wanted to taste you and enjoy you before I-"

He stopped. I waited for him to continue his thought, but apparently he wasn't going to.

"Before you what?"

He totally ignored my question. I was starting to feel like I wasn't even part of this conversation, that he didn't care what I had to say about any of this, that my questions were irrelevant.

"I'm not the man you think I am. I led you to believe things about me that weren't true. I'm not lonely, nor am I damaged in some way and in need of a woman to fix me. Pretending to be vulnerable is a very effective way to get the women you want to fall into your arms. I'm not an escort because I need the money. I hook because I like it." He paused for effect. "I don't have a scholarship to Julliard, and I utterly loathe lasagna."

I wasn't prepared for the blow to the stomach that his words gave me. Never had I imagined the real Edward Cullen to be an arrogant, unfeeling man like the one standing in front of me. I burst into flames from the inside, my anger at being used so callously overwhelming my common sense.

I hit him hard across the face, the force of the blow sending painful stings throughout my palm and up my arm. I fought back the angry tears that were threatening to bring me down. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry and perhaps interpreting my tears to mean weakness on my part, when in fact they were an indicator of my fury.

He righted himself and stared impassively back at me, as if the flaming red welt on his cheek didn't even exist. I knew he had to be in as much physical pain as I was emotional pain, but it didn't show in his demeanor. I hated him even more for that.

"You played me," I said, my lips curling into a hateful sneer. "You made me feel beautiful and loved with your smooth words. You seduced me. You made me feel like I was special to you, like I meant something to you, like you loved me, and it was nothing but lies."

He nodded once. "Yes. As I said, this is my fault. I handled things badly. The fact of the matter is I gave in to my own selfishness when I shouldn't have. I never was available. I led you to believe that I was, but that was a lie, too." He hesitated, and I braced myself for whatever was coming. "I'm getting married this Sunday."

His confession sucked the breath out of my lungs, like I'd just fallen out of a tree and landed flat on my back. I was stunned and having difficulty processing the words that had just flowed with such ease out of his mouth.

"You have a girlfriend?" I stuttered in shock. "You're a prostitute and you have a girlfriend who's going to actually marry you?"

He smiled smugly. How could I have thought this man attractive? "Emily and I have a very unique relationship. It works for us."

That was a million shades of kinky, and something I'd never understand no matter how hard I tried. I thought I'd known this man I'd given my heart to, but I realized now that he was a stranger and always had been. He was a liar, a cheat, a man-whore with a fiancé as fucked up in the head as he was. I hated him.

"Do me a favor. If you see me out somewhere in public, pretend you don't know me. Don't look at me, and don't you _dare_ speak to me. I'm going to go on with my life like you never even existed. You're the most despicable man I've ever known and probably ever _will_ know. But I have one thing to thank you for: the education. I now know what a player looks and sounds like. No man will _ever_ play me again, thanks to you. Have a nice life, Edward."

I thought I might have seen a flicker of sadness in his gray eyes, like his one tiny speck of conscience may have escaped and floated to the surface for a brief moment, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, _if_ it had even been there to begin with.

I turned and walked away. I was done with Edward Cullen. The heartstrings were severed and raveled into a thousand useless threads. Time to move on.

* * *

><p><strong>EDWARD… <strong>

I sat on the park bench for awhile and watched the ducks swim and play. I envied them the simplicity of their lives. They ate, swam, slept, procreated and then died. No drama in between. No heartache. No self-loathing for all the mistakes they'd made in their lives. Simplicity. But watching nature didn't pay the bills. I was wasting time. I had to get home and get ready for work tonight. Another fuck, another dollar. I immediately regretted my selfish thoughts. That dollar and the thousands of others that went with it made sure my precious Emily got the best care available. I'd chosen my bed; I needed to shut up with the whining and lie in it. Emily had done nothing to deserve the life she was living now, but she certainly deserved my full attention. She was going to get it. I'd just made sure of that.

* * *

><p>"<em>What the fuck did you do?!"<em>

Jake jumped my shit as soon as I walked in. He was livid. I'd never seen him so angry. No doubt Bella had talked to Alice and Alice had talked to him. I was _not_ in the mood for this.

"I did what had to be done." I continued walking through the kitchen on my way to my bedroom and blessed quiet, but Jake had other plans.

"I just got off the phone with Alice!" he shouted, blocking my way. "She's furious! She called you every name in the book and asked me how I could have such a prick for a best friend. She's wondering what kind of guy I am, how I could stand up for someone like you, defend you. I mean, I listened to this shit for forever from her and there was nothing I could say to defend myself _or_ you! What the fuck did you tell Bella? Did you explain everything like I told you to? Obviously not!"

"Shut up, Jake." I really wasn't in the mood for his theatrics, and he was answering his own questions anyway. If Alice got her ass bent out of shape and dropped him over something like this then she wasn't much of a catch to begin with.

"What did you say to her?!"

"I don't want to talk about it!" I pushed him out of my way, but the tenacious bastard blocked me again.

"You're damn well _going_ to talk about! If you want to fuck up your own life, that's your prerogative, but you're NOT going to fuck up _mine!" _

I snapped. All the anger that had been simmering inside of me since the park erupted. I plowed my fist into his face. Blood spurted and he fell back against the wall.

"I did what I had to do!" I screamed at him. "I had to cut her loose, a clean break! I couldn't have her mooning over me when I'm committed to Emily! DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THAT? I told her everything had been a lie and that I played her! I had to make her hate me! That was the only way! Do you think I enjoyed it? _I DID WHAT I HAD TO FUCKING DO!"_

I ran out of words. Jake was staring at me, shock and sadness showing through the blood. I realized I was crying, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I leaned back against the counter and let go. I just gave up and let go, let it all out. I'd fucked up everything in my life. It was my fault Emily had been injured, my fault my parents despised me, my fault I had absolutely no feelings of self-worth left inside of me, my fault I'd broken Bella's heart. I let it all go.

Next thing I knew, Jake was standing beside me, his comforting touch against my shoulder felt like a lifeline. He was the only person who understood all of this, and I was hurting him, too.

"I'm sorry, man. It's okay," he said softly and with no trace of anger left in his voice.

I let him talk. I let him try to comfort to me, to apologize for being selfish, to ask if there was anything he could do to help. I shook my head and apologized for hitting him. He laughed it off and joked about how my right hook was pretty damned good, but it wasn't really funny and we both knew it.

"I'm sorry my shit has come between you and Alice," I said. "Just tell her I'm an ass and that you've never been able to talk any sense into me, that you don't know why you're my friend. Agree with everything she says. I'll take the heat for this. Just get it off of _you_, so you can hold onto her."

"I'd rather not do that," he said, frowning. "I'd rather tell Alice the truth: that you're not a prick and that you're one of the most courageous men I know. That I respect the hell out of you and just want you to be happy."

"Fuck that and just do what I told you! Say whatever you have to say to hold onto her."

He shook his head. "I'm not doing that. No way."

"You're a stubborn asshole," I muttered.

He laughed. "_That's_ the pot calling the kettle black."

I ignored that. "Is your nose broken?"

He reached up and felt it, his fingers coming away bloody. "Naw. It doesn't swivel like a barstool, so it's fine."

I sighed and straightened. "I have to get ready for work. It's one of my regulars tonight."

"Who?"

"Blanche."

He winced. "Damn, a paper bag night. Sorry."

I watched in silence as he wet a washcloth and cleaned his face. I had no idea what I'd done to deserve a friend like him, but I was thankful he was in my corner. He spoke his mind and told me the truth whether I wanted to hear it or not. I respected him for that.

"You still coming to my wedding?"

He glanced in my direction as he washed his hands in the sink. "Yep. I'll be there, busted lip and all."

I loved the guy. That was all there was to it.

"Thanks."

* * *

><p><strong><em>~ Sunday afternoon ~ <em>**

Rosemary had outdone herself. Emily's room looked like a spring garden. All of her favorite flowers graced the tables or stood in the corners in decorative pots. The sun was shining in through the windows and my bride was just as radiant. I didn't know how Rosemary had accomplished it, but Emily's face glowed like she was lit from within. Her hair was woven into elegant braids against her head, with tiny sprigs of some sort of flower tucked in between the tight strands. The emerald silk of her new dress clung to her body, accentuating her natural curves. Despite the fact that she was immobile, her muscles practically useless, and sitting in a wheelchair, she was beautiful to me and always would be. I wanted so badly to gather her up into my arms and hold her, kiss her, make love to her, just once.

She was alert and responsive to questions. She knew what was going on. She knew were getting married. I sat beside her and held her hand as the preacher talked about love and commitment, about being there for each other through good times and bad, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. He should have realized that he was preaching to the choir, but I supposed it was all part of the official vows and couldn't be left out.

"Do you, Edward Cullen, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

I looked at Emily, and her eyes shown with such joy as I'd never seen. Her mouth twitched; she was smiling. I smiled back and squeezed her hand. "I do."

"And do you, Emily Young, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

A solitary tear streaked down her cheek. She made her sound for yes.

Jake passed me the rings. I slid hers on her finger, and then slid mine on myself. I wiped the tear from her cheek and smiled. "That better be a happy tear," I whispered to her, playfully frowning.

Her eyes danced and she made her sound for yes.

The preacher pronounced us legally wed.

With my thumb, I wiped away a bit of saliva that had pooled in the corner of her mouth, and kissed her, a soft kiss, warm, but lacking the fire that had always been between us. I wanted more, and I was sure she did, too, but this was what we had.

"Congratulations guys!" Jake's grin lit up the room. "Let's get the hugging out of the way so we can eat!"

There was laughter and enough hugs to go around for both me and Emily, from Jake, Rosemary and the other nurses who took care of her. There was food, even though I hadn't ordered any. Rosemary was most likely the culprit behind that. We ate and talked and finally everyone left, leaving me and Emily alone.

We sat with hands clasped together, and watched the sun set outside our window.

"The sky is beautiful."

She made her sound for yes.

"I love you, Mrs. Cullen," I said quietly, giving her hand a good squeeze.

She looked up at me with those beautiful, expressive eyes. "Uhh…v…" she answered back.

_And they lived happily ever after…_

* * *

><p><strong><span>AUTHORS's NOTE:<span> **This is not the end of the story.


	13. Chapter 13: Healing

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **As I stated the author notes of my first chapter, this story has been completed for nearly 3 years. It's at this point that I begin to receive stinging reviews that say this is not an E/B love story, that it's an E/E love story. I am of the belief that we can love more than one person in a single lifetime. If you do not believe this, then perhaps this story is not for you.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Healing<strong>

_**BELLA…**_

The weeks after the incident in the park were some of the hardest I'd ever lived. Not even my parents' divorce could touch them. After all, I'd been prepared for the breakup of my family because I'd seen the train wreck about to happen in excruciatingly slow motion long before the actual crash. This was different. I'd been completely blindsided by Edward, no warning, no preparation, no armor in place to cushion the impact.

I stormed home after the humiliation by the duck pond and marched straight to my bedroom, my anger focused on the silk tie hanging off the edge of my mirror. I violently ripped it from its perch and slammed it into the trashcan, satisfied that it would soon have a home in the dump, along with the shitty diapers and rotten food. The man made $5,000 a fuck. He could afford a new tie, or perhaps his fucked up fiancé, Emily, would buy him one for a wedding gift.

Whatever.

Then I got on the phone with Alice, and in minutes she arrived at my apartment and began pacing back and forth and cursing worse than a sailor. She called Edward every name imaginable, invoking the wrath of God to rain down on him every pestilence known to man, with heavy emphasis on diseases of the genitals. Then, she got on the phone with Jacob and let him have it, too. I tried to tell her that Jake was innocent in all of this, but she ignored me. I cringed as I listened to her chew him a new ass over the phone. It was incredibly sad to think that all of my drama might cause the end of Jake and Alice's relationship. They were too good together for that to happen.

Alice and I had our first major fight that day. After she got off the phone with Jake, she vowed to find out everything about Edward's life that she possibly could. She was going to go to the courthouse and look up the marriage license next week and find out Emily's last name. She was going to track her down, find out where she worked, what she looked like, and where they were living. The madness went on and on until I finally snapped. I screamed at her to butt out of my business, to just leave it alone and worry about her _own_ life. I told her she was going to fuck around and lose the best guy she'd ever had if she didn't watch, and that it was wrong to blame Jake for any of this. I let her know in no uncertain terms that I was through with Edward, that I didn't give one big shit about his stupid fiancé or their marriage. They could both go to hell for all I cared. I didn't want to know anything about him or hear his name spoken in my presence ever again, and if she couldn't stay out of my god-damned business then she could find another friend to boss around.

When I was through screaming, Alice just stared at me, her mouth open in shock. Without saying another word, she left, closing the door softly behind her. I would have felt better if she'd called me a bitch and slammed it on the way out. Instead, I felt incredibly guilty for taking my anger out on her. Even though she'd set this whole thing up, none of what had happened was her fault. She'd only wanted me to have some fun, and neither one of us had expected anything like this to happen. I threw myself down on the bed and cried until there were no tears left. I'd lost Edward and my best friend all in the space of one day.

Alice and I didn't speak to each other for two solid weeks: no funny text messages, no cute little dirty pictures in my email, no thoughtful little gifts 'just because', no girl lunches or sleepovers. Nothing. It was the most barren time of my life. Calling my mom and crying on her shoulder was totally out. She would probably ask for Leather and Lace's number. And my dad? I shuddered at the thought of confiding _anything_ personal to him. He was as stiff and set in his ways as a new leather shoe, and he still wasn't broken in after forty-four years. Charlie didn't want to even _hear_ the words 'daughter' and 'sex' used in the same sentence, let alone give me relationship advice.

At the start of the third week, I decided I couldn't do without Alice in my life a moment longer. I was just getting ready to call her when a knock sounded at the door. It was her. We'd both had the same thought at the same time, apparently. We spent the day talking things out. She apologized for butting her nose into my business, but admitted that she'd just wanted to help. I apologized for screaming at her, when I knew that she was just trying to be a good friend. We agreed that the whole Leather and Lace incident should be put away and never spoke of again. She promised to forget about Edward and his new wife, and I breathed a sigh of relief that I'd never have to hear his name again.

Thus began the slow process of healing.

It was a daily struggle. I went on with my life, dealing with the mundane, the idiots at work, the boredom of being alone, the whole nine yards of being single and having to deal with everything by myself. I did pretty damned good _most_ of the time. But nearly every day, for a brief moment, his handsome face would swim into focus in my mind, and his velvet voice would whisper to me. But the pleasant memories were always overpowered by my humiliation and anger over allowing myself to be so easily played. Alice had tried to convince me that none of this had been my fault, that it was all on Edward for being such a jerk. But in the dark of night, that wasn't much comfort. The fact of the matter was that I blamed myself for being such a willing and easy victim and for playing right into his hands. I should have known better. I should have seen the warning signs, but somehow, I hadn't. I was ashamed and angry that I had been stupid enough to trust him and believe everything he'd said.

Live and learn.

_I am done with Edward Cullen._ That was what I kept telling myself. I lay awake at night and relived our time together and then I cursed him in the daylight. I threw away the sheets that had been on my bed the afternoon we'd made love, even though I really couldn't afford a new set. But it was all nothing but anger-driven stupidity on my part. His ghostly presence was everywhere in my apartment, and short of moving out-which was monetarily out of the question-I had no choice but to make do and fight a daily battle with the memories. I hated him for ruining the sanctity and peacefulness of my private space.

The tie. I'd thrown away his stupid tie at least twenty times, but so far it had never made it to the dump. I'd always rescue it at the last minute. One day it would hang on my mirror and then I'd stuff it in a drawer for a few days until I felt compelled to drag it back out again. I kept telling myself that keeping it in plain view was a reminder to never again let a man smooth talk me. But deep inside, I knew that unless I could gather the courage to finally let that tie go to the landfill, I would never completely get over him.

The healing was taking a lot longer than I'd thought it would.

Two months went by. Three. And still his tie hung on my mirror. He still had power over me and that made me even angrier.

A full four months after the park incident, I finally threw away the tie. And this time, it left my apartment for good. No resurrections. No second chances. It was now rotting away in the landfill along with the rest of this city's garbage.

I was over Edward Cullen. Finally.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ A month later ~<strong>_

"Look, look, LOOK!"

Alice was bouncing up and down like a spring, her shaking hand poked out in front of her for me to see. "He gave it to me last night!" she squealed, and bounced some more.

I was finally at a stable enough emotional point that I could be genuinely happy for her and Jake. She was officially engaged and I was thrilled. I peered at the ring, although I could have seen it from two miles away. It was large, sparkly, and _very_ beautiful. Jake had outdone himself quite nicely.

A lot had happened in Alice's life while I'd been struggling to get on with mine. Not long after we'd made up from our argument, she had taken Jake home to meet her father. I'd laughed, despite my depression at the time, over her description of the evening. Alice's father was a very serious and driven man, very ambitious and focused on business 24/7. It was no wonder that he'd never remarried after his wife's death. The man simply didn't have time for romance. He scared the shit out of me too, so I always tried to avoid him when I was at her house.

I'd rolled with laughter when she'd described the look on her daddy's face the moment Jake had told him he worked for an escort service and that he was in love with his daughter. Alice said it was the first time she'd ever seen him at a loss for words. But before he could voice an objection to his precious daughter dating a hooker, Jake went on to hurriedly explain that he was using the money to pay for his education and that he was going to graduate debt-free. He also assured him that he was purely an escort, not a hooker. When Alice's father found out that Jake was studying to be a structural engineer and that he was one of the top ten students in his class, the rest didn't matter. His demeanor changed entirely. Alice was giddy. Daddy Brandon had accepted her sweet Jake and had welcomed him into the family like he'd been born there. Hell, Jake practically lived there now, as he'd taken to staying days at a time at her mansion.

"Daddy's looking into opening a branch office in New York and he wants Jake to be a part of it after he graduates!" she squealed. "Isn't that great?! We're going to live in a fabulous Fifth Avenue apartment and I'm going to finally get to be where all the fashion action is!"

New York. Fifth Avenue. Fucking wow! "Yeah, that _is_ great! Now I'll have somewhere awesome to visit!"

I was thrilled beyond belief for Alice, and not just for the fact that she was going to marry the sweetest guy on the planet and live in the Big Apple. I was thrilled because she was finally going to get to do what she'd always wanted. Her father had planned for her to run his offices and Alice had taken some business courses with that in mind, but only she and I had known how much she'd hated the thought of being stuck in an office and just bossing people around all day. Alice was much too intelligent and creative for that kind of job, but any attempt to change her major had ended in a big fight with her father. She finally gave up and decided that flunking out of college was the only way to get out of Management. It worked, but Alice had since been unable to talk her father into letting her explore the fashion field, so she'd been playing the part of the heiress for a couple of years now: charity work, charity work, and more charity work. And even though she'd found some satisfaction in helping others, it wasn't what she really wanted to do with her life. Thankfully, Jake was solidly behind Alice's interest in fashion and design and was encouraging her to do whatever she had to do to live out her dream. I sighed out loud.

"What's that sigh for?" Alice asked.

I smiled. "It's a dreamy sigh. I'm so happy for you. Everything's working out for you, and I'm just so, so happy." The tears came and Alice and I ended up in each other's arms.

"You're going to be my Maid of Honor, right?"

Oh boy. Suddenly, visions of endless hours of fittings swam through my head. "Of course I am." I smiled bravely.

I'd get through this, somehow.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ Two months later ~<strong>_

A lazy weekend with nothing to do but read. _Heaven._ I was currently immersed in the world of Stephanie Plum, my favorite fictional female bounty hunter. That chick had bigger balls than most men I knew. The doorbell rang just when Stephenie and her ex-hooker sidekick, Lula, were about to kick ass and take names. I frowned and laid my book aside. Alice had left yesterday to go to New York with her father, which left me wondering who could be waiting on the other side of my door.

I peeped out of the security hole and the person on the other side was not who I'd expected. I flung open the door and smiled, even though I was confused.

"Jake, come in! I thought you went to New York with Alice and her dad," I said as he walked through the door and into my living room.

He slung his coat onto the sofa and turned to face me. Oh, god. I could see it in his eyes. Something was wrong. Had something happened to Alice? Was she hurt? Had they broken up? Was that why he was here and not with them in New York?

"I backed out of the trip last night. And this has nothing to do with Alice. She's fine. _We're_ fine," he said, answering my unspoken questions before I could even ask them. "It just wasn't a good time for me to leave."

"What is it?" I asked. "Something's wrong. I can tell."

He sat down on the sofa, but not comfortably. He was perched on the edge of the cushions, stiff and fidgety. I sat down beside him, facing him and mirroring his pose. Whatever was coming, it was _not_ going to be good news.

"I need your help." Jake nervously raked his fingers through his hair, leaving dark, messy spikes in their wake. He seemed oblivious to it.

"With what?"

"It's Edward. I don't know what to do."

It had been four months of agonizing depression, followed by three blissful months of normality, when I'd successfully purged Edward Anthony Cullen out of my system and my life. I'd never thought of him, not even once. And now, just the mention of his name brought back all the hurt, anger and humiliation in one rush of temper.

"He has a wife," I snapped sarcastically. "Get _her_ to help you with whatever it is."

Jake sighed. "I can't. She's dead."

The breath whooshed out of me like someone had punched me in the stomach. That was not what I had expected to hear. Dead? They'd only been married for what…less than five months? I really wanted to be a complete bitch about this. I wanted to sneer and say 'Good! He got what was coming to him!' I wanted to revel in the fact that Edward Cullen was now as unhappy as he'd made _me._ I wanted to throw the mother of all parties, invite that wonderful lady named Karma and toast a few in her honor.

But I couldn't be that heartless bitch, no matter how much I longed to be. It felt good to know that there was still a decent person inside of me, that I was still able to feel empathy for someone even though they'd hurt me terribly.

"What happened?" I asked softly.

And then, in a quiet, but stoic voice, Jake began telling me things about Edward's life that I'd never known, or even suspected:

He and Emily had been engaged to be married nearly five years ago, but four days before their wedding she was involved in a car wreck. A drunk driver hit her in a near head-on collision. She almost died, but after several weeks in a coma, she finally awakened. Doctors told the family that she'd suffered a traumatic brain injury, and couldn't control her muscle movements or communicate verbally.

"Emily didn't have any medical insurance. They were going to put her in a nursing home when Edward stepped in and stopped it. He found a long-term care facility here in the city, and got a job with Leather and Lace so he could pay for it. Nearly every dime he made went to pay for her care."

I sank back into the sofa cushions in shocked silence as I tried to digest everything he'd just told me. Emily wasn't some fucked-up-in-the head girl who'd enjoyed having a hooker for a husband. _Oh, my God._ I'd been so wrong about her _and_ about Edward. If only he'd been honest with me.

"She got sick about a month ago." He shook his head and frowned. "I don't remember all of the medical details, but it started out with pneumonia and then it turned into something called septicemia. She ended up in a hospital on life support. Edward and her parents made the decision to turn off the respirator. It was the only thing keeping her alive. He held her in his arms as she took her last breaths."

The thought of Edward watching his wife die in his arms ripped my heart right out of my chest. I cried for him, and for Emily, whom I didn't even know, right there in front of Jake. I cried for his horrifying loss and wished I could tell him how very sorry I was.

"What do you want me to do?" I gulped through my tears.

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut tight. He was trying not to cry and just knowing that he wanted to nearly broke my heart all over again. I wondered, as I had many times, if Edward knew what a precious friend he had in Jake.

"I'm worried about him," Jake said when he finally gained enough control to speak. "He quit Leather and Lace the very next day. He attended the funeral in La Push, but when he came back…" Jake shook his head and sighed. "I'm afraid to leave him alone. I have a friend sitting with him so I could come here. That's why I didn't want to go to New York with Alice. I'm afraid of what he'll do if someone isn't there to watch him."

"Suicide?"

Jake nodded. "His parents have disowned him because of Leather and Lace. They haven't spoken to him in five years. Emily's parents aren't in any emotional shape to help him, and I'm the only close friend he has. I can't get through to him. He's completely withdrawn and he's scaring the shit out of me. He loves you, Bella. He told me that several times, but he couldn't pursue it, not with Emily to care for. He loves you, and _you_ might be able to get through to him."

"All of those things he said to me in the park…." I looked at Jake in disbelief.

He shook his head and sighed. "Whatever they were, they were all lies. He did it so you'd hate him, so you let him go, because he knew he could never have you for himself."

"He said he loved hooking, and that he didn't have a scholarship at Julliard, and….and that he loathed lasagna."

"It was all lies. He despised working as a prostitute. I tried to carry most of the load on our appointments, but he still hated it. And he _did_ have a scholarship at Julliard. He and Emily were going to live in New York while he attended school. And he's crazy over lasagna." Jake smiled sadly. "As long as it doesn't have eggplant and zucchini in it."

At that moment, everything that had happened between Edward and I no longer mattered to me. I couldn't bear the thought of him grieving alone and feeling like there was no other way out except to end his own life. I'd been right all along. Edward had been standing on the edge of an emotional cliff and ready to jump. He'd reached out to me, and then had pulled back at the last minute. He needed me now, and this time I wasn't going to let him push me away.

"There's one more thing you need to know," Jake said softly. "Edward blames himself for Emily's accident. I think that's part of the reason he's taking her death so hard."

I listened in stunned sadness as Jake told me about the night Emily had almost died. They'd spent the late afternoon in bed making love, laughing and talking, like any couple in love would do. It was the craving for pizza that had set in motion the tragic events of that evening. Their favorite pizzeria didn't deliver, so it had always been Edward's job to pick up their order. That evening he decided he didn't want to go. He was feeling lazy and relaxed from their lovemaking and wanted to just lounge around in the bed. So, Emily volunteered.

"It was such a small thing. Such a ridiculously small thing," Jake mused quietly. "Just one tiny change in their routine and it tore their lives apart. Edward blamed himself and he commented more than once to me that it should have been him in that bed with that brain injury. He blamed his selfishness for what happened to her, even though anyone with common sense would realize that it was the drunk driver's fault. He was killed instantly, by the way. There was no one left for Edward _to_ blame except himself."

"I need to see him."

Jake handed me the keys to his condo and gave me detailed directions. "You've got to get through to him. There's no one else who can do it."

I nodded and Jake looked immensely relieved. After everything he'd told me, I realized that Edward was a good man, but he was desperate and standing way too close to the edge of that cliff. There was no fucking way I was going to let him jump.

No matter what it took, I was determined to help Edward heal.


	14. Chapter 14: You're Not Alone

**Chapter 14: You're Not Alone**

_**~ Saturday afternoon ~**_

**BELLA…**

I keyed open the front door to the most beautiful music I'd ever heard. Jake's friend was waiting for me and seemed eager to leave.

"He's been playing the piano the whole time I've been here," he said, shrugging his shoulders, giving me the impression that he thought Jake's worrying had been for nothing.

"Jake said thanks, and that he owes you one."

His friend nodded, cocked his head in the direction of the living room. "Good luck," he said, as he scooted out the door.

I crossed the room and leaned my back against the wall near the entrance to the living room. The sounds pouring through the arched doorway astounded me with their complexity and beauty. If I hadn't known it was Edward at the piano, I would have thought someone was playing a CD. Jake had been right. When Edward touched those keys he made music that would cause a grown man to cry. It was sheer perfection.

Words were inadequate to describe what I was hearing. The melody was simple, but intricately woven into the rest of the song, which was surprisingly uplifting, considering that the man who was playing it was supposed to be contemplating suicide. Hope and happiness filled the rooms of the condo as he played on. I wanted to listen forever, and believe what the song was telling me: that the future held promise, that everything was going to be all right.

Then suddenly the music stopped, just stopped midstream, like someone had pushed the pause button on the CD player. The abrupt silence sucked every bit of happiness from the room. I could almost feel the emptiness, the sadness, rushing in and filling the vacuum left by the dying sounds of the strings. Everything was _not_ all right.

I moved soundlessly to the doorway and peeked into the living room. The scene before me was heartbreaking. Edward was slumped over the keyboard, his head resting on one arm and hiding his face from my view. Sheet music was scattered all over the top of the grand piano and strewn in the floor at his feet. The drapes were pulled nearly shut, only allowing a small shaft of weak light into the room, not nearly enough to chase away the heavy cloud of grief that hung in the air.

"Edward."

His head shot up at the sound of my voice, and I was shocked at his appearance. He had a full beard, unkempt and shaggy. His hair was longer and even more unruly than I remembered, and dirty. His sweat pants and baggy t-shirt that didn't match weren't as alarming as the hollowness of his face. He'd lost weight, and as he was a slender man already, he'd not had any extra pounds to lose. His eyes were the worst of it, though. They were dulled with fatigue, like he hadn't slept in weeks. Dark shadows hugged his lower lids. He seemed shocked to see me, but in seconds, his face transformed into that rage-filled visage I'd seen at Bossa Nova.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped in the hoarse voice of someone whose throat was parched from thirst.

"Jake told me everything," I said softly. "I know about Emily. I'm so sorry for your loss."

No reaction. He just stared back at me with his angry, hollow eyes. "Leave."

My first reaction was to do what he said, just leave and take my hurt feelings with me. That would be the easiest thing to do and the least painful for me. But I kept reminding myself that this wasn't about me. This was about a man who'd lost everything solid in his life, leaving him standing on some very shaky emotional ground. So, no matter how hard he tried to push me away, I wasn't going to let him succeed this time.

"No."

His jaw clenched and he turned his face away from me. A stubborn silence filled the room as he avoided my gaze and I tried to figure out what to say to break through the angry wall that was standing between us.

"You've given your condolences, now leave," he said, his words clipped and abrupt.

I got the sense that he was barely tolerating my presence. I briefly wondered if my continued defiance might push him closer to the edge of that cliff instead of pulling him back, but Jacob's words rang loud in my ear. Edward needed my help.

When he realized I was still standing just inside the doorway, he whipped his head around to face me, his lips pressed together in a tight, angry line. "_What are you doing here?!"_ he shouted.

I swallowed down my nervousness in the face of his escalating temper, and struggled to keep my voice from trembling. "Jake is worried about you. He-"

Before I could even finish my sentence, Edward burst out laughing, a bitter and empty sound. "So you're just another babysitter sent here to make sure I don't off myself," he said, sneering sarcastically.

"He just thought you might want some company," I offered gently. "Someone to talk to…"

He shook his head and chuckled. "I'm not going to swallow a bottle of pills, or slide a gun barrel into my mouth and pull the trigger. That would be too easy. So just leave. You don't have to worry about me. Leave me alone and just let me have some peace."

There was no peace to be had in grieving alone. Even _I_ knew that. There was no way in hell I was leaving. I shook my head.

His temper exploded. I jumped when he shot up from the piano and in a fit of rage swept every piece of sheet music from the top of it onto the floor. He turned and upended the piano bench, and then kicked at the loose sheets of music sticking to the soles of his bare feet.

"What are you? Some sort of co-dependent person who thrives on abuse?!" he shouted angrily, his fists bunched tight at his sides. "Are you one of those sick people who like being hurt?! Are you coming back for more, like some pathetic dog that's been kicked but is too stupid to run away? Is that what you're doing? _Get out!"_ He jabbed his finger to the open doorway. "Leave! Get the fuck out of here! I don't want you here! I don't need you! Is that plain enough for you to understand?!"

What I was witnessing had to be the worst kind of pain that existed on this earth. He was deliberately trying to hurt me, but only a woman who had never held this broken man in her arms would have believed the things coming out of his mouth to be the truth. I'd heard the longing in his soft whispers. I'd felt the loneliness in his touch as he'd grazed his fingers down my cheek. I'd also felt his love, and he had so much of it to give. Instead of being hurt, I understood his anger. He was afraid. He'd lost someone he'd loved deeply and he was terrified of losing anything else, so he was pushing it away and minimizing his risk.

"_He loves you, Bella. He told me that more than once, but he knew he couldn't have you for himself, so he had to make you hate him." _Jake's words, and they were never truer than at that very moment.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not leaving. No matter what you say to me or what you do, I'm not leaving."

His temper disintegrated in an instant. I'd thrown enough water on the flames to finally put out the fire. Now all I had to do was deal with the ashes left behind. I walked around behind him and up-righted the piano bench. He collapsed down onto it, sighing hopelessly, his shoulders slumped and defeated. I knelt in the floor at his feet and stared up at his tired eyes.

"When was the last time you slept?"

He shrugged and dropped his gaze off to the right. "I don't sleep well. Never have. Not since-"

He stopped, but I knew what he'd been about to say: not since Emily's accident. Despite his unkempt appearance and the smell of sweat that clung to him, he needed to rest worse than anything else. I'd suffered from insomnia once as a side effect of a particular medicine. I knew from experience that prolonged lack of sleep dulled the senses, but seemed to heighten the emotions, making everything feel harsh and much more intense than it really was.

"Where's your bedroom?"

He frowned. "Down the hall."

I rose from my knees and extended him my hand. "Come on. You're going to get some sleep."

"I can't sleep. I just _told_ you that!" he snapped, a bit of his irritability returning.

"You've never had a problem sleeping when you've been with _me_."

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it. It was the truth and he was just now realizing it. He'd slept like a log both times we'd found ourselves in bed together. Maybe it had been because of the good sex we'd had, but I liked to think that it was because he'd felt safe and happy in my arms.

"Come on."

He took my hand and moved one step further away from the ledge.

* * *

><p>Getting him to lie down on the bed took a lot longer than it should have for a man who was perilously close to collapsing from exhaustion. The bed was already rumpled from his past attempts at sleep. I smoothed it out and lay down fully clothed. He stood at the foot and just stared at me for the longest time. I patted the empty space beside of me and lifted my eyebrows in silent invitation for him to join me. He grimaced. Why was he being so stubborn?<p>

He answered my unspoken question as if he could read my thoughts. "The dreams are worse than being awake."

"There won't be any dreams. Not with me here. I promise."

Even though we both knew that my promise was just meant to make him feel better, he gave in to his fear and joined me on the bed. He stretched out beside of me, his body stiff and tense, like he was afraid to get too close. He'd never rest unless I could get him to relax.

"Turn over," I commanded softly, tugging on his shirt sleeve. "Come on, Edward. Turn over toward me."

He reluctantly shifted his body until he was lying on his side facing me, his long legs bent and tucked up against mine. His eyes were bloodshot and dull. I missed their vibrancy and how they seemed to change color with his shifting moods.

"Come here, you," I whispered, tugging again at his sleeve in an attempt to pull him even closer.

He resisted, frowning. So, I scooted closer to him and pulled him against me. His head ended up on my chest, just beneath my chin, my arms folded protectively around his thin shoulders.

"You're not alone," I whispered.

Three simple words that had the power to finally break through the thick wall Edward had built around himself for nearly five years. _You're not alone._

He relaxed into my arms, his hands searching for something to hold onto. One hand snaked around my back and found its way into my hair, while the other clutched at my t-shirt, the fabric twisted tight into his fist. I felt his grief before I heard it. His body began to tremble and then came the awful, gut wrenching sound of a man falling apart. I'd never actually seen or heard a grown man cry before in real life. It was a horrible thing to bear witness to. All I could do was hold him, and offer reassurance that everything was going to be all right.

"Let it go," I whispered to him, even though I doubted that he heard me through his sobs. "Just let it go, Edward."

I cried with him, rocking him gently in my arms as the grief flooded out. My tears wet his tangled hair, while his stained the front of my shirt. It went on for an unbelievably long time. I tried to imagine myself in his shoes and trying to function every day with so much hurt and anguish trapped inside of me. I couldn't. Edward was an incredibly strong and selfless man. My love and respect for him rose with each heart wrenching sob that came out of him.

Eventually the worst of it stopped and a strange sort of peaceful silence filled the bedroom. He still snubbed and sniffed, but the tension in his body was gone. He clung to me as before, but we didn't talk. We just held each other until I felt his body grow heavy against mine.

He was asleep.

Another step further away from the ledge.

* * *

><p>I startled awake to find Jake standing beside the bed. Edward was still in my arms and deeply asleep.<p>

"Sorry," he whispered so as not to disturb Edward. "I didn't mean to scare you. Thank God you got him to sleep. He needed that."

I nodded carefully. "He's going to be okay. Go to New York," I whispered. "I'll stay here with him."

"You're sure?"

I nodded again. "Alice is _you_r life now, and Edward is mine. I'll take care of him."

Jake's relief was as palpable as Edward's grief. The past three years had taken its toll on him, too. I couldn't imagine what it had been like for Jake to stand by and watch helplessly as his best friend had struggled to hold his life together.

Jake glanced at Edward's sleeping form and smiled fondly. He nodded and glanced back at me. "Thank you," he whispered, bending down and kissing my temple. "My cell number is on the fridge. Call me if you need me."

"Don't worry. He's going to be okay," I whispered bravely, and I meant it. I'd stay with him as long as I had to in order to get him through the worst of this. Screw the office. I hardly ever took off from work, so it was about time I burned up some of my unused sick days.

After a few minutes, I heard the muffled sound of the front door shutting as Jake left. My eyes were wide open now, and my bladder full. Very carefully, I maneuvered myself away from Edward. He barely moved, even when his arm slid off my back and plopped onto the bed. He was completely out of it and I felt safe enough to sneak away from him for a few minutes.

My left arm was asleep. I shook the tingles out as I sought out the bathroom and took care of business. A quick dash into the kitchen with its enormous stainless steel refrigerator yielded a handful of fresh fruit and a glass of juice. I scarfed it down, anxious to get back to Edward in case he awoke and thought I'd left him. But he was still sleeping peacefully and hadn't even moved from the position he'd been in when I'd left.

I decided to take a look around before I settled back down with him. His bedroom was, in some ways, exactly as I'd imagined it, but in others, it was totally surprising. His disheveled look had me thinking him a bit of a slob, but even in his grief, his room was immaculate. Aside from the unmade bed, everything else was tidy and in its place. No using the floor as a laundry basket. His dirty clothes were stashed in a wicker hamper behind the door.

Edward loved music, and his room was a testament to that passion. A high-tech electronic keyboard hugged the wall opposite the foot of his bed, and a shiny violin and bow leaned against one corner of it. On the wall opposite the right side of his bed, was a small, compact stereo system and a huge collection of CDs. But it was what lay between the stereo and the keyboard that made my heart turn to mush. A wooden corner cabinet held all of his band/music awards from his childhood: a treble clef award with _Edward Cullen ~ All County Band ~ 2__nd_ _Chair Trumpet _etched on the front; a bass clef with _All County Jazz Band ~ First Place Brass Ensemble_; ribbons of competitions he'd won were draped over trophies for performances he'd participated in. I pictured in my mind a youthful Edward, smiling proudly with his prized first place ribbons around his neck. His parents must have been so proud of him. I wondered how they could bear not speaking to their only son for five years. How would I feel if my parents disowned me? I couldn't conceive of what that kind of rejection would feel like.

I moved to his closet, and those closed doors called to me. Why do people feel compelled to peek into other people's medicine cabinets and closets? I had no answer. All I knew was that I burned to see what lay behind those sliding mirrored doors. They glided open with hardly a sound to reveal an astonishing number of suits and coordinating dress shirts—his work clothes. There looked to be a different set for every day of the month. Several pairs of polished shoes were aligned in two neat rows on the floor. A special hanger held an assortment of matching silk ties. I slid the other door open and the real Edward Cullen was revealed. Two pairs of ragged and faded jeans were draped over hangers, and five faded t-shirts hung beside them. One pair of worn Reeboks on the floor, one hoodie and a winter coat and that was it. The rest of the closet was empty.

Edward mumbled in his sleep and turned over. I slid the closet doors shut and hurried to the bed. I lay down beside him again. My hand on his arm was all it took to comfort him and send him back into a deep sleep. I fluffed my pillow and prepared to snuggle up against his warm back. A quick glance over his shoulder at the clock on the bedside table brought me up short. My mind barely registered the red digital numbers. It was the bifold frame standing beside of the clock that commanded my attention. I propped myself up on one elbow and studied the photos.

The one on the left was of Edward and a woman, whom I took to be Emily. She was perched on his back, her chin resting on his shoulder and her legs wrapped around his waist. It was a comical picture, as Edward looked like he was about to fall over, and they were both laughing. There was a beach in the background, but it wasn't the sunny kind of beach you usually saw in pictures. There were cliffs behind them, with towering trees instead of sand dunes and palms. The sky seemed gray instead of blue, but the weather hadn't dampened their spirits. It was obvious that they were in love and nothing could ruin it, not even the rain.

The picture on the right side took my breath away: a studio portrait of Emily, a head-and-shoulders shot. I was stunned at her beauty, and wondered what Edward saw in me. There was no way I could measure up to the elegant woman staring back at me from that wooden frame.

I tore my gaze away from the pictures and snuggled against Edward's back. I dozed off and on as he slept, but never fell completely asleep. My mind kept seeing Emily's beautiful face, her high sculpted cheekbones that every woman would kill to have, her dark hair that fell around her shoulders like ebony silk, her almond-shaped eyes and full lips. She was so exotic, and I was so plain.

* * *

><p>It was early evening before Edward finally awoke. He sighed and stretched his long legs out straight before turning over and looking at me in surprise.<p>

"Feeling better?"

He nodded. "I thought I'd dreamed you being here. What time is it?" He rolled over and looked at the clock before I could answer. He sat up abruptly, sighed and then ran one hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

Before I had a chance to figure out what he was apologizing for, he reached for the bifold frame, intending to lay it face-down where I couldn't see it. I grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"No. Don't."

He sighed again, and both of us stared at those two photographs in silence.

"She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is," he answered softly.

"She's Quileute, like Jake?"

He nodded. "Full-blooded."

I wasn't an expert on grief, by any means, but I'd watched my fair share of talk shows. The experts always maintained that it was better to talk about the person who'd died, rather than to pretend they didn't exist. It helped those who were grieving to heal faster. I crossed my fingers and hoped they were right.

"If Emily were able to talk to you right now, and see all of this—you not eating, sleeping or taking care of yourself—what would she say?" I held my breath as I waited for his reaction. It could be anything from anger to another round of crying to a complete emotional shut-down.

He surprised me by laughing. "She'd jump my shit. She didn't handle the broody side of my temperament very well."

"What would she say?" I asked again.

He cleared his throat and answered, imitating her voice _and_ her attitude. "'You know I love animals, Edward, but I draw the line at fucking a grizzly.'" He turned to me, smiling, and explained. "She hated when I let my beard grow."

"Well, I have to say, I agree with her. So, you're taking a shower, washing your hair, and shaving that junk off. I don't like it either."

I got up from the bed and stood in front of him, hand out and waiting for him to take it.

He gave me a grumpy frown, then sighed out of frustration, and then _finally_ threaded his fingers in with mine. "I hate shaving," he muttered, but he stood up anyway.

Another step further away from the ledge.

* * *

><p>I knew it was going to take him quite awhile to shave the grizzly bear off of his face, so I set out to find something in the kitchen for him to eat. A search of the massive refrigerator yielded a glass dish of lasagna with only a small corner missing. I pulled it out and set it on the counter for inspection. How long had it been in there? No mold, so that was a good sign, at least. Poking at it with a fork didn't tell me whether it was still edible, though, so I zapped a square in the microwave and used myself as the guinea pig.<p>

My heart melted and tears sprang up in my eyes as I chewed. There was no eggplant or zucchini anywhere in it. Jake had made this especially for Edward to try and get him to eat. I covered it and reheated it in the oven, threw together some makeshift garlic bread using Jake's fake butter, an ancient bottle of garlic salt, and some oregano. By the time Edward ambled into the kitchen, there was a fairly edible, hot meal waiting for him. He looked at the table, and then back at me.

"I'm not hungry," he said, and I detected a small bit of stubbornness, but it was nothing that I couldn't handle.

"Sit. Eat."

He frowned, and this time it wasn't just a grumpy little frown like before. I think I was beginning to seriously annoy him, but that was just tough toenails. He'd wallowed around for nearly a month and let his health go down the tubes. I knew his grief over Emily would take months to heal, possibly even years, but he needed to take care of himself in the meantime.

I sat down and waited for him to join me. Reluctantly, he slid the chair across from me out from under the table, a little too roughly, and plopped down.

"I can't eat this. It has eggplant and zucchini in it," he announced stubbornly.

"No, it doesn't. I tasted it. Jake left it out-" I argued gently, and then added, "-just for you."

He sighed and jabbed at it with his fork. It was a slow process, with little conversation in between, but he managed to eat most of what I'd put on his plate.

His eyes were clearer and the dark circles had faded a little. It was good to see that smooth jaw line again. Physically, the Edward Cullen I knew and loved was slowly reappearing. But the hair…

"You need a haircut," I observed.

He dropped his fork and sat back in his chair, staring at me with those beautiful smoky blue-gray eyes that were suddenly smoldering with anger.

"And you're bossy," he answered.

Oh boy. Was this going to be our first fight? Not if I could help it. "I'm not bossy. I just love you."

That seemed to throw him completely off-balance. He frowned, and I was confused. Surely he knew how I felt about him?

"No you don't," he said smugly.

Okay. Nothing pissed me off more than somebody telling me what I did or did not feel, especially when they had no idea in hell what they were talking about.

"Don't you dare try to tell me what I'm feeling," I snapped. "Jake came to me for help because he loves you, and I came here because _I _love you. People love you, so just accept it!"

He shot up from the table and disappeared into the living room. I listened to him play the piano while I cleaned up in the kitchen. He continued while I took a shower and tidied up around the condo. Once, I leaned against the doorway and watched in fascination as his long fingers danced lightly across the keys. He knew I was there, but he ignored me. I grabbed a random book from his shelf and took it into the kitchen to read. He was playing that song again, the one that he'd been playing when I'd first arrived, the uplifting one full of so much hope and happiness. Finally, at 12:23 AM, according to the clock on the microwave, he stopped playing and reappeared in the kitchen.

"Music makes me feel better," he said quietly. "Always has."

I nodded. "I figured that."

He leaned against the doorway, and even in his grief, even with the sadness that hung over him like a shroud, he was beautiful. I wanted to hold him, hug him, and tell him that he was going to be all right, but after our heated exchange earlier, he was going to have to make that first move.

"What was the name of that last song you played?"

He tensed, and I instantly regretted asking.

"I wrote it for our wedding. It was supposed to be a surprise. I was going to play it for her at the reception." A hand raked through his hair. "She never got to hear it."

He dropped his head, but not before I saw his eyes shimmering with tears. _To hell with it._ I crossed the room and took him in my arms. He leaned into me and held on.

"Yes, she _did_ get to hear it. Just now."

He cried quietly into my shoulder, and apologized in between his tears for falling apart on me once again. I held him tight and let him know that it was okay, that it was normal to cry, and that it was better for him to get it all out than let it fester inside. After the tears had once again dried up, he pulled away from me and let his head thunk back against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Fuck, I'm exhausted. I need to sleep." He managed to open his red-rimmed eyes long enough to find mine. "Will you come to bed with me?" An awkward pause. "Just to sleep," he added quickly.

"Of course I will."

Another step further away from the ledge.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ Sunday morning ~<strong>_

I awoke to bright sunlight streaming in between the bedroom curtains. It had been an uneventful night with no talking or crying. Edward had finally given in to the exhaustion and within a few minutes had fallen asleep in my arms. He was now spooned up against my back and still sleeping soundly.

I loved the feel of his body curled up against mine. He had a morning boner and it was pushing hard against my ass, but with everything he was going through, I felt like a total douche bag for even noticing. Sex was the last thing on his mind. He'd made that clear last night. Physically he was probably ready, but emotionally, he wasn't there yet. Far from it. So, I gave my inner slut a mental 'Down, girl!' and slid carefully out the bed.

While I was fixing breakfast, I heard the shower start. _Good._ I was glad I wasn't going to have to get all bossy with him and force him to start getting into a routine. He emerged into the kitchen dressed in clean clothes, with freshly shampooed hair and a clean-shaven face.

"What am I being forced to eat this morning?"

I glanced his way as I slid an omelet onto his plate, just to make sure he wasn't angry again. He wasn't. I caught a mischievous gleam in his eye before he looked away.

"An omelet. Take it or leave it."

A glimmer of a smile. "I'll take it."

We ate in silence for awhile. Then we exchanged pleasantries about how well we'd slept, about the weather, about Alice and Jake. It was nice, until breakfast was over. He helped me clean up and then left the room. I fully expected to hear the piano, but nothing. Silence. I peeked into the living room. He was standing by the window and looking out, his fingers drumming a nervous rhythm against the leg of his jeans.

"Are you all right?" I ventured cautiously.

He shook his head, still staring out the window. "I need to get out of here. Do something. Anything."

He sounded desperate for some reason, like the walls of the condo were closing in on him. He needed space. Sun. Fresh air. "Let's go to the park, then," I suggested.

He whipped around. "That's where we-" He shook his head. "No."

"Yes," I countered. "I love the duck pond. I don't want to spend my whole life avoiding it just because of what happened there."

I crossed the room and grabbed his hand. "Come on, Edward. We'll take a loaf of bread with us. It'll be fun."

He gave me the strangest look, but he took my hand.

Another step further away from the ledge.

* * *

><p>We sat on a blanket in the grass, with the warm morning sun glowing in the sky, and tossed bread out into the small pond. The ducks had fun chasing down every morsel, their wings beating the water and sending sprays of droplets perilously close to our bare feet. Edward seemed content, but pensive. Something was bothering him, but I decided to just go with the flow and not press him. Hopefully, he'd talk to me when he was ready.<p>

Eventually, he did.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," he said as he threw another bunch of bread out into the water. Without looking at me, he continued. "It seemed the right thing to do at the time. I realize now that it wasn't. I always seem to find a way to fuck things up and hurt the people in my life: Emily, my parents, Jake, and now you."

"Apology accepted." I didn't know what to say about the fucking things up part, so I let it go. "And I'm sorry for hitting you."

"Don't be. I deserved it." He threw another piece of bread into the water.

Yes, he had deserved it at the time, but in hindsight…? "No, you didn't, and don't come back at me with a 'Yes, I did'. That's over and done with, and there's no use arguing about it."

He sighed and fell quiet again. He stopped throwing bread and just stared off into the distance with his arms propped up on his bent knees. I set the half-empty loaf aside and considered him. From what Jake had told me about Emily's accident, I had a feeling I knew what was bothering him.

"You need to stop feeling guilty for what happened. It wasn't your fault."

His eyes flashed with anger when he turned to me. "It _was_ my fault. It's all on me. I own this."

"It was an accident."

He shook his head and laughed bitterly. "I've heard all this bullshit before from Jake. Just save it, okay?"

"No, I'm not just saving it." He muttered a curse under his breath, but I ignored it. "If you would have been driving that car, there's no guarantee you would have been in that same accident. You could have driven a little faster than her, or a little slower. It could have taken you longer to get ready to leave than her, which would have delayed the time you got to that part of the highway. Any number of simple things like that could have happened to interfere."

"You're missing the god-damned point!" he shouted. He raked his fingers through his hair and I could see he was trying to calm his growing temper. "If I had gone to get the pizza, I might not have been involved in the accident, I realize that. But Emily _definitely_ wouldn't have been involved. Don't you see that? I made a stupid, fucked-up selfish decision and it ruined everything! It ruined our future and it tore her life apart!"

He stood up, stuffed his bare feet angrily into his Reeboks and stalked off, leaving me open-mouthed and wondering what to do. I wanted to run after him, but I had a feeling that would only lead to more fighting. So, I did nothing. I half-heartedly fed the ducks and thought about what he'd said, while I waited for him to cool down and come back. After awhile, I realized he had a point, a very _valid _point. It was hard for me to admit it, but Edward was right, sort of.

A few minutes later, he returned, looking a lot calmer than when he'd left. "You want to go somewhere else?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

We folded the blanket, left the rest of the bread on the grass for the ducks, and struck off walking. Somehow it was easier to talk when you were doing something, like driving, or washing dishes, or walking. The lack of eye contact, I supposed, made it easier to tackle sensitive subjects, so now seemed the perfect time to finish our conversation.

"I don't like the word 'fault'," I said as we walked. He glanced my way, but said nothing before returning his gaze to the front. "It denotes forethought, in my opinion. Like the difference between murder and manslaughter. One is planned, the other isn't. You're not at fault for what happened because you didn't plan for Emily to get hurt. It wasn't purposeful on your part, so there's no 'fault' involved. But…you _did_ make a bad decision," I finished.

He stopped and stared at me, astonished. "Thank you," he said. "It's good to hear someone finally agree with me."

I nodded. "It was a bad decision..._later_. But at the moment you made it, it was perfectly harmless. That one bad decision is all you own in this whole thing, Edward." I took his face gently between my palms and focused on his eyes. "What you have to do now is something only you can do. You have to forgive yourself," I finished softly. "You'll never get past this until you do."

"How do I do that?" he asked, his voice breaking as he struggled to keep his composure.

I shrugged. "I think you just have to accept what's done, acknowledge your part in it, and admit that there is nothing you can do now to change what happened. I don't think Emily would want you to suffer like this because of her. She'd want you to forgive yourself and move on. She'd want you to be happy, don't you think?"

He swallowed down his tears and nodded.

"You have your whole life ahead of you. You just have to start living it. And remember, you're not alone. You have Jake and Alice and me. We'll help you through this."

He pulled me into his arms and thanked me for being there for him, for putting up with his moods, for forgiving him for hurting me. "Let's walk the trail," he suggested after he pulled away. "I'm not ready to go back home yet."

I smiled and held out my hand. He smiled back and threaded his fingers in with mine. Things were going to be better for him from now on. I could feel it in my bones.

He was far away from the ledge now, and back on solid ground.


	15. Chapter 15: I've Got Your Back

**Chapter 15: I've Got Your Back**

**BELLA…**

I stayed with Edward for four days while Jake and Alice were in New York. We spent every moment together in those four days, talking a lot, listening to music a whole lot more, and grieving in between. Edward was slowly recovering, but there were so many tender wounds still left in him, some so delicately painful that just one innocently spoken word would bring all the hurt and loss back again.

He tried to swallow his grief and be strong. He tried again to push me away, claiming I had to have more interesting things to do than sit around all day and watch him cry. I ignored his protests, and didn't let him wallow in self-pity. I refused to allow him to take any backward steps toward that ledge.

I brought up Emily's name every chance I got, and forced him to talk about her. I made him tell me funny stories about their time together just so I could see the green and blue sparkles in his eyes when he laughed. In the intimacy of his darkened bedroom, while we waited for sleep to come for us, I insisted he tell me what it was about her that had made him love her so deeply, and the words that poured out of him made my heart ache with longing. I'd never loved anyone like Edward had loved Emily. I would have never made the sacrifices for Mike that Edward had made for her. I hadn't known such deep love even existed outside of romance novels and movies, at least not until I'd met this beautiful and haunted man. Instead of being jealous or envious of the love they'd shared, I found that I loved and respected him even more for his sacrifices and his incredible strength. I only wished I could have met Emily before she'd died. I wanted to tell her how very lucky she'd been to have him in her life.

Lying in the quiet darkness with Edward sleeping peacefully in my arms, I felt a strange closeness with her. We loved the same man, she and I. Her chance at finding happiness with him had been ripped away from her by fate's cruel hand, but I was alive. I was here, holding him, comforting him and helping him fix the broken pieces of himself.

"Don't worry about him," I whispered to the stillness, hoping my words carried to wherever she was now. "I'll take care of him. I'll love him."

* * *

><p><strong>EDWARD…<strong>

I awoke before her, which was unusual. I'd grown so used to opening my eyes to find her staring at my face, her fingers threading through my hair, that it was a surprise to have our roles suddenly reversed. I took this rare opportunity to study her as she slept, and sighed dejectedly at what I saw. How had I been so blind to what was happening? Was I so self-absorbed that I couldn't see the writing on the wall? I'd been among the walking dead for weeks and I knew what that particular kind of exhaustion looked and felt like. Bella was almost there. She was tired. The dark circles under my eyes had migrated to hers. She was expending far too much emotional and physical energy to try and keep me afloat and it was taking its toll. I needed to get my act together before I ended up taking her down with me. She didn't deserve that. I made up my mind in those quiet moments of early morning that I was done with the long talks and the reminiscing about my life with Emily. I was through with the recriminations and the regrets over what had happened. How long could someone exist on guilt? It sure as fuck didn't pay the bills. Neither did shame or self-loathing put food on the table. I was stronger than this and it was about time I started acting like the man I was pretending to be.

I couldn't resist the urge to touch her, tenderly pushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen onto her cheek. She was so beautiful, but even more than that, she was good. She was everything I'd ever wanted in a woman, and I immediately felt guilty for thinking it. Emily was everything that I'd wanted, once. I'd never before felt the kind of love I'd had for her. The girls before her had been just dalliances, and the women who'd passed through my life after her accident had meant absolutely nothing to me, either. I'd taken no more notice of them than the lifeless plastic mannequins in every storefront window. I'd done what was expected of me from Leather and Lace and had excelled in the emotional detachment required of the job. I was cold and professional, confident that I could handle it, since I was sure that no other woman in the world could ever steal my attention away from Emily, the one woman I loved with every ounce of strength I possessed.

And then Bella had come into my life and brought with her confusion and regret, longing and lust. Emotions that I had allowed, and even encouraged, to die within me were suddenly awakened by her touch, her gentleness, her passion. I'd been stunned by the enormity of my attraction to her, even though I was still deeply in love with Emily.

I'd never considered the prostitution to be cheating because I'd had absolutely no feeling for the women who'd hired me. They were nothing to me, just a paycheck and a means to keep the woman I loved as comfortable as possible. Bella was different. I'd definitely cheated on Emily by giving in to my feelings for her, and the guilt from that one act of selfishness would be a long time fading. What kind of man left his fiancé lying helpless in a hospital bed while he went off and screwed the afternoon away in complete selfish bliss?

I didn't deserve her. I knew this one thing with a stubborn certainty. I wasn't good enough for her, but I wasn't strong enough to let her go again, either. I wanted her, wanted a chance to have a life with her, but how realistic was that? When the shine wore off, Bella was going to open her eyes and finally see things as they really were and leave me. What would I do then? Fall apart again?

As I watched her sleep, my shaky resolve hardened into a thick, unwavering wall of steel. I was going to pull myself out of this wallowing pool of self-pity, get a damned job and start supporting myself again, _and _I was going to selfishly soak up all of Bella's attention up to the moment when she finally realized that this whole thing had been a mistake.

* * *

><p><strong>One Week Later<strong>

**BELLA…**

The change in Edward had been nothing short of miraculous. That last night before Jake had gotten back from New York, I'd gone to sleep holding a lost, grieving man in my arms. I'd woken up to a stubborn ball of energy who had suddenly been determined to see whether his car would still start and if the rusty motherfucker (his words) had enough spit left in it to get him to some job interviews. I'd watched in shocked astonishment as he'd bustled from room to room, grousing about where he'd left his keys and hunting for two matching socks. He'd kissed my cheek and promised he'd be back by dinner, leaving me standing in the middle of the kitchen, stunned but quietly hopeful. I'd just met a very new and interesting man: Edward Cullen on a mission.

I was finally forced to return to work after my extended bout with that 'nasty stomach virus'. There was always a stomach virus going around, so no one questioned my lie. The following days were a carbon copy of each other: I went to work, and after work I went to see Edward. He spent the daylight hours looking for a job, and our evenings were spent together, sharing our day, taking walks and growing closer.

Jake was hardly ever at the condo now, but tonight was a special exception. In honor of Edward's progress, Jake and Alice had decided we should celebrate with a home-cooked meal, some wine, some music, and the warmth of friends. Alice was in charge of getting the groceries. Jake was in charge of cooking the meal, and I was in charge of the wine. Edward had no idea we were planning anything so we hoped he would be pleasantly surprised when he got home from another long day of job-hunting.

I arrived at the condo with wine in hand, fully expecting to see dinner already in the early stages of preparation. Instead, I found Jake at the kitchen table with his laptop and papers spread all around him.

"Where is everybody?" I put the wine in the fridge while Jake started clearing his mess from the table.

"Alice has been delayed with this charity thing she's doing. Edward just called and his piece of shit apparently started bleeding all over the road, so he's at the dealership, and who knows how long it will take to fix that rusty pile of crap, _if_ it can even _be_ fixed. I offered to come and pick him up, but the stubborn ass wouldn't hear of it."

Jake sighed and I laughed. I was experiencing first-hand Edward's endearing stubbornness that Jake found so annoying. Once he got an idea in his head, there was practically no budging it. Perhaps it didn't bother me because I possessed the same sort of stubbornness. Obstinate determination was a positive trait as far as I was concerned. It had finally paid off for _me._ Edward was part of my life and I wasn't about to let anything or anyone interfere with that.

"He says the same thing about you: that you're stubborn and pig-headed."

Jake snorted and went into this whole spiel about how Edward invented the word stubborn and he'd argue the sky was green even if the whole fucking world could see it was blue. I smiled to myself as I listened to Jake's rant, knowing full well that these two guys loved each other as only two friends who had been through hell and back could. They were tight; a true bromance if I'd ever seen one. They'd do anything for each other, and I loved them both for their loyalty.

Jake sighed when he ran out of words to criticize his friend. His papers were now neatly stacked and his laptop shut down and closed. He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and stared at me over the table. I stared back, at a loss for what to say next. Suddenly the kitchen was filled with an awkwardness that couldn't be ignored.

"You're uncomfortable with me," he stated bluntly, his dark eyes holding mine.

I couldn't take the scrutiny of those eyes, so I looked down at the table to avoid them. "Kind of."

"Because we had sex."

I nodded. I'd never broached the subject with Alice. I was afraid of what opening that can of worms would do to our friendship, so I'd left it alone and she had, too. If only Jake would.

"We need to talk about this," he said softly. "I don't want there to be this weird, awkward thing between us. Alice is your best friend, and Edward is mine. You and I, we need to get this all out in the open and deal with it. Have you talked to Alice about it?"

I shook my head. "I'm afraid to."

"Well, Alice and I _have_ talked about it, at length," he said, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. "Look at me, Bella."

I raised my eyes to meet his and all I could see in their dark reflection was that night and how I'd been so enamored with his smoldering good looks. I could replay that entire evening in high definition detail if I allowed myself. Most days, I blotted Jake's part in it out of my memory, only letting the intimate moments with Edward steal into my thoughts.

"I didn't want things to progress any further with Alice until we'd gotten all of this ironed out," he explained. "We spent an entire evening going over this." He shook his head. "We analyzed it to death until finally we both realized that it didn't matter. She knows that I love _her_, and only her, and she's not upset with you. It would be kind of ridiculous for her to be upset, since she's the one who set all of this up, right?"

True, but that still didn't change the fact that I'd had some pretty awesome sex with her fiancé and future husband, _and_ Edward's best friend.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way," he continued, threading his fingers together and boldly holding my gaze across the table. "Please don't be offended by what I'm about to say, because you know that I consider you my friend, and I would never do or say anything to purposely hurt you. But, the truth is, that night didn't mean anything to me. It was just sex. I was getting paid to do a job, and I did it. You were nice, and very sweet, but I never gave you a moment's more thought once I left that apartment. I didn't lie in bed and think about you. In fact, I crashed the moment my head hit the pillow. I didn't wake up thinking about you either. You were just a job. Nothing more."

"You didn't feel _anything_ for me?" I asked, making sure that I completely understood him; there was absolutely no room for confusion or doubt here.

He shook his head. "Nope. Nothing. Nada."

It suddenly felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I grinned, and then that grin turned into a full-fledged laugh. "You asshole!" I laughed some more and then wadded up the bag that the wine had come in. I hurled it at his grinning face and missed by a mile, which widened that cocky smile of his even more. "And here I thought you were 'in fucking love' with me."

He laughed. "I'm so full of shit. You should know that by now. I was just having fun with you that night."

"I never thought I'd be happy to hear a guy say I was completely forgettable, but I am," I admitted when the laughter of the moment finally wore itself out. "Does Edward know all of this?" I hoped so, because I couldn't even imagine having this same conversation with him right now. Our relationship was just beginning to feel solid.

Jake chuckled. "He knows. He knew the minute I had you removed from my client list that you were just a job to me. The women that I had a special fondness for, I always put on my _preferred_ list. No, we've had many a conversation about women. He knows the kind of woman I like, and it's not you. No offense."

I smiled across the table at him. "None taken. And Alice is so lucky to have found you."

He shook his head. "Oh, hell no. It's _me_ who's lucky. You don't know how many nights I laid in bed in La Push and stared at the ceiling wishing like hell I was anywhere else but there. I had big-assed dreams, but no idea how to make them come true. I wanted to leave my mark on this world, build things, _big_ things that would make people stop and stare. And I always imagined a strong woman by my side, a woman who had as much drive and ambition as me and who had her own mind and knew how to use it. She would stand by me and I would do the same for her. We'd be partners in everything we did. Because of Edward and then you, I accidentally found her, and I will never be able to thank both of you enough for that. There is no other woman on this earth who could take Alice's place. She's perfect for me." I reached across the table for his hand. He grabbed it and squeezed. "So, no more awkwardness?"

I smiled. "No, no more awkwardness."

"Good." He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, there's something else we need to talk about."

The laughter was gone out of his eyes, which worried me. "What's wrong?"

"I gave my two week notice at Leather and Lace yesterday." A glimmer of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Someone else will have to step in and save the world one orgasm at a time. Anyway, I'm moving in with Alice until we get married. So, with Edward not working and me not working…"

He didn't have to finish. They were going to lose the condo. Edward wasn't going to have a home.

"He doesn't have anywhere to go," Jake said, giving voice to my thoughts. "He won't ask his parents for help, and even though Alice offered him a room at her house, he refused. He's been looking for an apartment the past two days, but without a job, how is he going to pay for it?"

"He can come and live with me."

Jake gave me a defeated look across the table. "I suggested that. He wouldn't even consider it. Flat out refused and threatened to beat my ass if I mentioned it to you."

Well, guess what? Bella Swan had a stubborn streak of her own. Edward was not going to be tossed out on the street, or living out of some cheap motel, not as long as I had a bed big enough for two in my apartment.

"I'll take care of it."

Jake nodded and grinned. "I knew you would."

Our late dinner was over. The wine was gone. Soft music filtered through the rooms, mixed with Jake and Alice's playful laughter as they swayed drunkenly in each other's arms near the piano. Edward stood in the shadows of the living room and watched them, one hand in his pocket and the other holding fast onto mine.

"They're so sweet together," I murmured to him. He smiled and nodded in silent agreement.

"I heard you're going to need a place to crash." I saw the bones in his jaw clench and knew he was getting his stubborn on. I was having none of that shit. "You're coming to stay with me."

"No, I'm not," he said, still keeping his eyes fixed on Jake and Alice.

"Yes, you are."

"No. I'm not."

"Yes. You are."

"You're fucking bossy," he snapped.

I was beginning to think that 'bossy' was his term of endearment for me.

"And you're fucking stubborn," I shot back.

"I don't mooch off of people," he added, the bones in his jaw tightening again.

"Who said anything about mooching? If you come and live with me, you're pulling your weight, buddy, or your cute little ass is out."

He looked down at me and frowned quizzically. "I don't have a job. I can't pay any rent. How the hell am I going to pull my weight?"

"Clean the house, do the laundry and have dinner ready when the breadwinner gets home." I grinned at his stunned expression.

"I don't have any idea how to do that stuff. Jake did all of that."

"Then I'll teach you, and you'll learn."

He sighed in the face of the Swan version of stubbornness and turned his attention back to Jake and Alice. We watched them sway to the music for a few moments more.

"I don't think my piano will fit in your apartment."

"It'll fit. We'll _make_ it fit."

He turned to me again and frowned. "Are you like this all the time?"

"Like what?"

"Bossy. Stubborn. Annoyingly optimistic." His voice softened. "And beautiful."

My heart thumped wildly at hearing him say I was beautiful. "I have my un-beautiful moments, believe me, but those other three? Yeah, I'm like that all the time."

He smiled, and turned his attention back to Jake and Alice. Jake was running his hands slowly up and down Alice's back. Every other pass, he'd cup her ass in his palms and squeeze, pulling her hips hard against his. He'd lay playful kisses down the side of her neck and she'd giggle and squirm in his arms. They were so wrapped up in each other that the rest of the world didn't exist. I wished so hard for Edward to pull me into his arms and hold me like that. I wanted to sway with him to the music. I ached for my whole world to be the feel of his hands on my body and his smoky eyes grazing over my skin. Instead, he tugged on my hand and pulled me from the room, leaving Jake and Alice alone to enjoy each other.

In the darkened kitchen, he leaned back against the wall and gathered me into his arms. I snuggled in against his warm chest, and thrilled at the feel of his body against mine. He held me for a short while, and then shifted me away from him just enough so that he could see my face.

"Thank you," he whispered, and then I felt his warm lips lightly touch my cheek. I turned my mouth to his, but he pulled away. "I owe you an apology for being so ungrateful. I don't want you to think that it's you, because it's not. It's just me and my stubborn pride. I should be taking care of you, not the other way around."

I disagreed. Edward was in dire need of some tender loving care, but I knew enough about the male ego to keep that thought to myself.

"Here's the way I look at it, Edward." I fingered his soft hair in between my fingers and then slid them down his jaw line. "If you love someone and they fall down, you pick them up, and you hold on until they get their balance back. When they're steady again, you let go."

"I don't quite have my balance back yet."

I held his face in my hands and smiled up at him reassuringly. "I know that, so I'm not letting go. Not yet."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but in the end he decided another hug would suffice. I enjoyed every moment that he held me. My inner skank was screaming for me to kiss him, to run my hands all over his luscious body, to quit waiting for him to make the first move. Once again, I ignored that inner voice. Edward had just admitted that he didn't have his balance back, which meant I needed to be patient and not force him into my bed. He'd come to me when he was ready.

"Right now, I've got your back," I murmured against his chest. He hugged me tighter. "And one day you'll have mine."


	16. Chapter 16: I Love You

**Chapter 16: I Love You**

**BELLA…**

The piano fit, just like I'd said it would, and after a few days of getting used to each other, Edward fit, too. I taught him how to prepare some of my easier recipes. We practiced sorting laundry. He found the on/off switch on the vacuum cleaner and there was no stopping him after that.

We soon fell into a routine. I worked and he job hunted three days a week. The rest of the time he concentrated on pulling his weight. He messed up a few times, of course. We'd thrown several dinners into the garbage and had had to replace a few pink shirts and underwear that used to be white, but it wasn't all that bad. I'd made just as many mistakes when I'd first struck out on my own.

And every night, I slept alone in my bed while he slept on the sofa. We never had the 'where should I sleep' conversation. Edward decided that all on his own when he dragged a blanket and pillow from my closet into the living room his first night there. His tall body didn't fit on the sofa, but he seemed determined to make it fit, so I left him alone.

After awhile, I began to wonder if Edward was even interested in a sexual relationship with me anymore. That wall that I'd sensed between us the night of my birthday was back up, maybe not as thick and impenetrable as then, but it was still there. We were sharing the same physical space but there might as well have been the distance of an ocean between us. I didn't know how to get rid of it.

Oh, but my inner slut knew. She wanted me to go shopping for some slinky nighties that let half of my ass-cheeks hang out, and wear them around the apartment in front of him. She planned romantic dinners with candlelight and lots of wine, with dessert being hard, grinding sex up against the living room wall, or over the table, or in the shower. She wasn't picky. Lacy bras and panties left hanging over the shower rod to dry. An 'accidental' dropping of my towel after getting out of the bathtub. She had all kinds of tricks up her slutty sleeve, but I couldn't bring myself to use any of them, because the man now sharing my apartment wasn't the Edward Cullen that I'd grown to love. _My_ Edward craved intimacy, he enjoyed touching me and _being_ touched, and he especially loved falling asleep in my arms. What had happened to that man?

* * *

><p>Three weeks passed and the distance between us hadn't lessened. If anything, it had gotten wider. We talked, we worked together preparing dinner, we watched television side-by-side, he played the piano and I listened, but the closeness was gone. I wasn't sure what was wrong, and I didn't want to bother Alice with my problems. She and Jake were deep in the middle of wedding plans and getting things ready for their move to New York. Mine and Edward's problems were the least of their worries.<p>

I tried a couple of times to get him to open up to me, but when I asked him what was wrong, I got the same answer: nothing. I hated that damned word. It was the most useless word in the English language.

Amidst all of the worrying, my mother's words of wisdom were a constant presence in my thoughts. 'You can't make someone love you if they don't.' As I was also discovering, you couldn't make them talk to you, share their fears with you, or trust you, either.

It had been a long, tedious day at work, and I was looking forward to getting home and relaxing. I opened the front door and immediately knew something was wrong. The kitchen was empty and there were no signs of dinner. Within a few moments of my shutting the door, Edward appeared in the doorway of my bedroom. He leaned against the frame, with a beer bottle dangling from one hand. His jeans were hanging low on his hips and he hadn't shaved since I'd said goodbye to him this morning. He was a gorgeous mess, and he was drunk.

"What's wrong?"

The great thing about drunks was when you asked them what was wrong they didn't answer 'Nothing'. They couldn't tell you fast enough everything that was wrong with them.

"What's wrong?" He laughed bitterly and swayed against the doorframe. "I'm wasting my time looking for a job, that's what's wrong. I'm not qualified, I don't have any experience, I don't have a degree, blah, blah, blah."

So that was it. That was the reason for the distance between us. Edward was a man who needed to work. He'd spent four years working himself to the bone to take care of Emily and now he had nothing substantial to do and no one to take care of. I should have realized this house-husband gig wouldn't be enough for him.

"When you think about it, there's only three things I'm qualified to do," he continued. "Play music, fuck and wallow in self-pity."

He stared at me, waiting for me to say something. Maybe he was expecting me to throw a tantrum and chew his ass out for drinking, or maybe he wanted me to fall at his feet and cry and beg him to stop. Or perhaps he was hoping I would hug him and give him a bunch of tired, overused platitudes to make him feel better. Somehow, I didn't think any of those tactics would work, and frankly, I wasn't in the mood to try and see.

"I would focus on the music. You're really good at that."

He rolled his eyes and laughed, but he was far from amused. "I think you missed the part where I was being a sarcastic asshole."

"I didn't miss it, I ignored it. You have an amazing musical gift, so use it."

He took a drink from his bottle and then smirked at me. "I was pretty good at fucking, too. And trust me, there's a lot more demand out there for sex than there is for piano players. I pulled down $2,000 free-and-clear cash every night I worked, and now I'm supposed to work at McDonald's for minimum wage?"

Okay. I knew in my heart that he was hurting, that he was trying to build a new life for himself and life was beating him back down again at every turn. I knew his ego and his pride were taking a pounding, and that the right thing to do would be for me to offer him comfort, but his defeatist attitude was pissing me off.

"You sound like you miss Leather and Lace, so why don't you just go back there? Forget about your musical talent and just go back to fucking rich, ugly women every night of the week. Is that what you want? Would that restore your precious male pride to its previous lofty levels?"

He stared me down from across the room with eyes that were dark and angry.

"Wow, thanks so fucking much for the sympathy. All of that 'when you fall down I'll pick you up' shit was just bullshit, apparently."

A long-ago lecture from Charlie, after Mike and I had had a really big fight, suddenly resurfaced out of the blue. 'Never try to have a rational conversation with a man whose brain is at the bottom of a bottle, Bells.' My father had his profound moments, and that had been one of them. I really didn't want this to escalate into a major fight, so I bit back my temper and tried to make peace.

"I love you, Edward, and I do _not_ want to argue with you."

He sneered. "You don't love me. You just think you do."

And of course, he said the one thing guaranteed to make me mad. I hated when people assumed they knew your innermost feelings when they actually didn't know their ass from a hole in the ground.

"Don't tell me what I feel. I. Love. You."

"You don't love _me_!" he erupted. "You love the Edward Cullen in the expensive linen suits who sold himself for Blake Palmer! _That_ Edward was perfect. He was smooth. He knew all the right things to say and do. He was successful and fucking _perfect._ That's not me! _You're in love with the wrong fucking man!"_

My mouth dropped open in shock. Where was this nonsense coming from?

"I don't know where you got that idea, but it's not true," I assured him softly, moving a little closer to him. "I know who you really are. I know your heart. The man standing right here in this room, _right now_, is who I'm in love with."

He huffed in disgust and shook his head. "You don't understand."

Obviously I didn't, and he wasn't in any shape to make things clearer.

He weaved his way to the kitchen and slammed the beer bottle down on the table. "I'm going out and don't fucking try to stop me."

I _didn't_ try to stop him. I just let him go. As soon as the front door shut behind him, the tears started and they didn't stop for a very long time.

* * *

><p>I lay in bed and stared wide-eyed at the dark ceiling, wondering where Edward was and if he was okay. My worst fear was that he'd try to drive, but when I'd popped my head out the door, I'd seen his rusty little car still parked by the curb. That, at least, had been a relief. But then I pictured him wandering all over town in the dark, alone, and that conjured up all kinds of bad scenarios.<p>

It was after midnight and still no sign of him. I tossed around in the bed, trying to find sleep, but only succeeded in tangling the sheets in a mess around my legs and worrying myself into a tight ball of nerves.

I re-ran the entire episode in my mind, gave his short burst of temper a second look to see what I'd missed. None of it had made any sense, and still didn't. I understood that he needed a job to feel like he was truly pulling his weight around here, and I was willing to help him all I could with that, but what I didn't understand was his bragging about Leather and Lace and his fucking skills. Did he want to go back to work for them? There was no way I was going to stand for that, and surely he knew that, so why even bring it up?

And the whole 'You're in love with the wrong man' thing had just completely thrown me for a loop. Sure, I would be the first to admit that Edward was a gorgeous man when he was decked out in his Leather and Lace suits. He'd mesmerized me that night with his GQ looks and his sophistication, not counting his skills between the sheets. He'd definitely awakened feelings in me that I'd never felt before. But, the man _beneath_ the linen and silk was who I'd fallen deeply in love with, the man in the tattered jeans and faded t-shirts, the man who only had two pairs of sneakers to his name and drove a rusted-out compact car. Where in the world had he gotten the idea that I was only in love with an idea instead of a real man? None of it made any sense to me, so I gave up trying to understand it and instead focused on the job issue.

Living single had forced me to become a problem solver. So, while I waited for him to return, I sifted through the possibilities of how I could help him. Maybe take a couple of days off and go job-hunting with him? Almost immediately, I nixed that idea. He was the one who would have to do the job, so he should be the one to choose what kind of work he wanted to do. So, I focused on his musical talent, and after tossing around a lot of implausible ideas, I finally decided that I would record him playing the piano on my phone and show it to some women at work. Perhaps they would want some private lessons for their kids. And then that idea blossomed into an entire neighborhood campaign, with pamphlets advertising Edward's private lessons tacked on bulletin boards all over the place. This could work.

* * *

><p>"Bella."<p>

I jolted awake to a velvet voice quietly speaking my name.

"Bella. You awake?"

I blinked at the clock on my bedside table: 2:37 AM.

"Edward?"

I pried open my eyes and saw him standing just inside the doorway. The moon's gleam had crept in through my thin curtains, casting a soft glow across the room and over his body. He looked like a beautiful, but shaggy, fallen angel in scruffy jeans. I wanted to touch him, to make sure he was real, that he was okay. I crawled out from beneath the tangled sheets and padded across the carpet until I was close enough to smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. I placed a palm tenderly against his stubbly cheek and said nothing, just stared into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he offered softly.

I shushed him with a tender touch of my finger to his lips.

"Is there a limit to how many times I can fall down?"

I smiled and stroked his jaw. "Yeah, but it's in the thousands. I can't remember the exact number right now, but you're a long way from there."

He sighed and dug a hand into his pocket, producing a wad a bills which he held out to me in his palm.

"I made $83 in tips playing piano at Circa 1926. Take it."

I didn't want to, but I instinctively knew that I had to take the wrinkled roll of bills or risk tearing down the progress he'd made tonight. So, I took it, and held it tight in my hand like it was the last money I'd ever see.

"Their regular pianist called in sick, so I filled in, for six hours. He hired me on the spot. So, three nights a week I'll be tickling the ivories." I could tell from his expression that he liked that idea. "It felt good to perform for people again."

"I'm so happy for you, Edward, and if you'd like, I can ask the women at work if their kids need any private music lessons."

He smiled. "I could do that. Piano, violin or guitar."

And since we were apologizing…

"I'm sorry for the way I talked to you, for the no sympathy thing."

He shook his head, and touched his fingers to _my_ lips this time. "I was giving up. I didn't need anyone to hold me steady. I needed a swift kick in the ass, which is what you gave me. Don't apologize for that."

Then he pulled me into his arms and held me. All I wanted was to just let go and cry, let all of the tension and worry flood out of me and onto his t-shirt, but I fought it and held tight to those tears. I didn't want to ruin this precious moment between us with his questions about why I was crying, and my having to explain it. I just wanted this closeness with him, the feel of his lean body against mine, his hands caressing my back. Even the stale cigarette smell on his clothes was welcomed.

"I love you, Bella."

Everything disappeared at the sound of those words being whispered softly into my hair. My heart, the world, sound, all of it stopped and there were only his arms, his body, his voice. Then I began to wonder if I'd imagined it, if I'd willed those words to life all on my own. I wriggled out of his tight embrace and stared up into his eyes, wishing that it wasn't so dark so that I could clearly see what color they were.

"Say that again?"

He blinked several times and frowned. "I love you," he said simply.

"Again."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his beautiful mouth. "I love you, Bella Swan. Did you hear it that time?"

The tears escaped my tight grasp and coursed down my face uncontrollably. He was confused, of course. All men seemed to lack a basic understanding of a woman's tears, thinking that they always meant unhappiness.

"I hope those are happy tears," he said cautiously, watching me closely, his eyes searching my face for an answer.

I nodded, and tried to say 'yes', but the word was unrecognizable amongst the sobs. He leaned back against the door frame and pulled me against him again. As he held me, he whispered repeatedly for me to just 'let it go', and I did. I'd waited so long to hear those words from him, and even though I'd sensed his love for me that Saturday we'd spent together, hearing him say it out loud completed something inside of me. If you had love, you could work anything out if you tried hard enough. Everything was going to be all right between us from now on.

After I'd cried myself out, he released me and wiped the wetness from my face with his long, musician fingers that I so loved. He pushed back my tangled hair and tucked it tenderly behind one ear.

"I love _you_, Edward Cullen."

He smiled, but there was confusion creasing his forehead. "Apparently you do."

"Apparently?" I asked, baffled at his choice of words.

He shook his head. "Never mind."

Before I could press him to explain, he kissed me, the first intimate physical contact we'd had since he'd moved in. It wasn't tender or sweet, but was hungry and hard. My heart was pounding by the time he let me come up for air.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" he asked hesitantly.

Every single one of my girly parts turned a somersault at hearing his request. I had to force myself to calm down and not jump to any slutty conclusions. After all, he was still mourning Emily.

"Uhm…you mean…_sleep_ sleep?" I asked cautiously.

He smiled crookedly. "Eventually."

_Oh Holy Fuck-allelujah! Let the sleeping begin!_ My inner skeeze had just steamrolled out of hibernation and she was one hot Ready Freddy in a shapeless cotton nightgown.

"Maybe I should change into something more appropriate?"

He shook his head and slid his fingers along the side of my neck and underneath my hair. "I don't care about that. I care about what's _beneath_ the clothes."

_Yeah, baby, YEAH! My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard!_

"I care about what's in _here_." He placed his hand tenderly over my heart and my inner whore slunk away in superficial shame. Edward wasn't a shallow man with one-dimensional emotions. I should know that by now.

"Of course, a nice body is like having extra meat in your lasagna." His sly grin morphed into a soft, sexy laugh, and I laughed with him. His hands made a slow journey down my arms, and then my hips and finally to the edge of my gown. "Let's get rid of this racy little thing before it drives me insane."

I giggled as he pulled my boring cotton nightgown over my head and tossed it onto the floor. I shimmied my panties off and kicked them to parts unknown. I stood before him, naked and proud, because every girl looked beautiful in the soft glow of moonlight, even me.

His slowly swept his eyes over me. No part of my body was left untouched.

"God…" he whispered.

His one-word pronouncement revved up the sexual tension in the room. Chill bumps stood at attention all over me when he lazily dragged a lone finger down the top of my breast and across my hardened nipple.

"I need you."

I opened my hand and let his tip money fall to the carpet. Those three words were all I needed to hear. Within seconds after he'd spoken them, I was all over him. The ache between my thighs had no patience for foreplay. This wasn't a Leather & Lace style seduction with gentle kisses and tender, wandering hands. This was raw. This was the result of spending weeks in close proximity to the most beautiful man in my universe without being allowed to touch him. I needed this as much as he did.

My kisses were hard and probing and very un-ladylike, but he didn't seem to mind, and I loved the soft groans that poured out of him as I tongued him and stroked him through his jeans.

"You have on too many clothes," I gasped breathlessly between kisses.

Between the two of us, we frantically undressed him. I imagine it would have been comical to anyone watching. He stumbled while trying to get his wadded up jeans off of his feet, and we both laughed when I ripped down his underwear in one quick downward stroke and his rigid dick flopped up and down like it was nodding 'yes' to a silent question. He ripped off his t-shirt with a dramatic flourish of static and threw it to the side.

He grinned crookedly. "I think I just slaughtered the Leather & Lace rule about the sensual, seductive and graceful removal of clothing."

"I don't care about sensual and seductive. I just want you to fuck me."

I think my inner skank must have finally broken through my subconscious barriers and found her human voice. His grin disappeared in an instant, and I didn't have time to be shocked at what had just spewed out of my mouth. Edward made a strange sound, a cross between a painful groan and an angry growl, and then scooped me up into his arms and tossed me down onto the bed.

This was not going to be sweet sex, gentle kissing and probing with fingers and tongues. This was going to be all-out fucking in its most primitive form and we both wanted it this way. Fuck the foreplay. As soon as my body was prone, I spread my legs and wrapped them around his waist, gripping his thighs and urging him inside of me. I wanted him to fill me, fuck me, make me scream as he pushed that envelope of pain intermingled with pleasure.

He pummeled my body sending the headboard banging against the wall with every deep thrust. The sounds that came out of my throat didn't sound like me at all. They were as animalistic and wild as the noises coming from _him._

"Am…. I….hurting…..you?" he gasped breathlessly without breaking his pounding rhythm.

I clawed at his back and then twisted my fingers into his disheveled hair, pulling and digging and thrusting my hips up to meet his.

I growled deep in my throat. "HARDER!"

A string of guttural curses flew from his mouth and then he did as I'd ordered. He slowed his pace, but deepened his thrusts—long, hard, penetrating strokes of marble sheathed in silk. He continued that intense rhythm that brought back memories of my birthday. I could feel the need in his body, hear it his voice. His fingers dug into my skin everywhere they touched. He was pushing me to that threshold where pain lay just within my reach, and I loved it.

"I can't…." he gasped painfully.

His rhythm faltered and I heard the frustration in his voice as he struggled to hold back. What he didn't know was that I was right there with him trying not to come, wanting it to last. But the body can only take so much, be it pain or pleasure, before it makes that decision for you. I catapulted helplessly across that sexual line in the sand with a piercing scream and bucked my hips up hard, pushing him deeper inside of me.

"_FUCK!" _

His hoarse cry of pleasure, along with the praises to God that followed in its wake, echoed throughout the room. I smiled when he finally collapsed his full weight down onto me. He was way too heavy, but at that moment, I didn't give a shit. I was just so damned happy. He was sweaty and smelled like stale cigarette smoke, but I loved him, loved him more than I'd ever loved anything or anyone in my entire life.

"Help." His face was buried in my hair and the pillow, muffling his weak plea for assistance. "I can't move."

I giggled and using my entire body as a lever, I pushed, shoved, twisted and finally, along with his pitiful help, used my feet to kick him over onto his side of the bed. He rolled over into a sprawl like he was a beached whale washed up onto shore.

He snickered softly. "Thanks. I was getting a cramp."

I smiled and patted his thigh. "No problem. I've got your back."

He grabbed my hand, threading his fingers loosely in with mine.

"I love you, Bella."

"Say that again?"

He laughed quietly.

I smiled and squeezed his hand. "I love you back."

He was curled up against me, his long legs tangled up with mine. His angular features that were so jaw-dropping gorgeous during the day, were softened by sleep. He looked completely peaceful and happy for the first time since I'd met him.

Everything had finally fallen into place for us. I felt sure that his grief for Emily would linger for a long time, but the worst of that seemed to be behind him. He had a job, and although it was only part time and probably didn't pay that great, he was happy with it, and that was what mattered most. We'd finally bridged the distance between us and could now start building that solid foundation that would see us through any bad times ahead. We were talking, and more importantly, we were loving each other.

As far as I could see, there was only one more hurdle we had yet to cross as a couple: Alice and Jake's wedding.


	17. Chapter 17: Not Good Enough

**Chapter 17: Not Good Enough**

**BELLA…**

Our stomachs were full and the evening sun was still hours away from the horizon. The forested grounds surrounding Alice's monstrous back lawn were quiet and peaceful compared to the streets around my apartment. I lounged in the chaise and concentrated on sucking up as much rays, and serenity, as I could. Edward was stretched out beside of me in his own chaise, with his eyes closed. He wasn't asleep, but was probably resting up and gathering his strength for what lay ahead.

This was to be a "working barbecue" as Alice had so quaintly called it when she'd invited-no, when she'd _insisted_-that Edward and I attend. After stuffing us full of food, we were supposed to have a big brainstorming session about the wedding and reception. Apparently, the planning had hit a snag, and that snag's name was Jacob Taylor Black. We were Alice's reinforcements in the big wedding battle that was waging, but it was unclear who was on whose side. Me? I just wanted something short, sweet and simple, just do my Maid of Honor thing and get it over with.

"When are we supposed to have this meeting?" Edward asked.

I glanced his way and his eyes were still closed. Then I located Alice and Jake over by the grill. "I'm thinking soon," I answered, sighing. "They're still cleaning up, but it looks like they're almost finished."

He sighed, too. "I don't know about this whole best man thing."

I made a stink face at him, even though his eyes were shut. "Shut up. At least _you_ don't have to sing!"

He turned to me and grinned. "I'm actually looking forward to that part. I love your voice."

I gave him my best disgruntled grunt and turned away. Singing along with karaoke, or in front of just a couple of friends was okay. The thought of performing in front of a whole church full of strangers was terrifying.

Edward shifted onto his side and reached for my hand. His grip was strong and reassuring. "Here's what I used to do when I was nervous about a performance. I searched the audience for that one person who I knew was in my corner. You can always find one. They're smiling and really paying attention to you. When you find that person, you perform only for them; your audience shrinks from hundreds down to one, and your nervousness just disappears."

I smiled at my incredibly sweet and precious Edward. He had an uncanny way of knowing the right thing to say at just the right time. My jitters melted away underneath his soft, blue gaze.

"I just wished _you_ could be that one person in the audience, instead of being Jake's best man."

He guffawed and rolled his eyes heavenward. "From your mouth to God's ear."

I scolded him playfully. "Oh, come on now. You're going to be an amazing be-"

"_Cathedral?!" _

Jake's outraged voice carried from the far end of the patio, interrupting my attempt to calm Edward's nervousness about his wedding duties.

"Shit," Edward cursed softly. "The meeting begins…"

"_I'm Quileute! I'm not getting married in some big assed church with creepy organ music straight out of Phantom of the Opera. I'm Native American, Alice! Do you understand what that means? It means I'm indigenous! You're looking at a man who's spiritually in tune with nature, for Christ's sake! We're getting married under the night sky with Mother Earth surrounding us and that's that!"_

Edward looked over at me and rolled his eyes. "What in the fuck is he talking about? He's not spiritually in tune with nature." He snickered. "The pussy screams like a girl at the sight of a spider. He always yelled for me to come and kill them."

I smacked Edward's arm and laughed. "Be nice."

"_Well, I'm not dancing around a wigwam with a peace pipe hanging out of my mouth on my wedding day! And a wedding dress made out of cowhide, cheap plastic beads, and with moccasin pumps? I don't think so, buddy! I'm an HEIRESS! I have a reputation to uphold!"_

"Ohhhh shit. She did _not_ just say that," Edward said, dropping my hand and sitting bolt upright in his chair.

Everyone has their triggers, like the cutters who see a razor blade and immediately want to start slicing up their arms. Jake's trigger was the "H" word: heiress.

"He's turning purple, Edward. Do something."

"_I'm not fucking Prince William and you're for damned sure not Kate!"_

"I'm on it," he said, and then took off across the patio with me trailing frantically behind.

"Guys!" When they ignored him, he turned up the volume. _"GUYS!"_

Edward yelling wasn't something they heard every day. It was enough to stop their argument in its tracks. They turned and glared at both of us.

"I guess you started the meeting without us, huh?" I said, pulling on my 'attitude panties' and snapping that waistband.

"I have a suggestion," Edward said before either one of them could craft a smart-assed answer. "Just call the whole damn thing off and be done with it, because you obviously don't love each other enough to compromise. You're both acting like spoiled brats, so just fuck the whole thing and shack up!"

Their mouths dropped open in shock.

_OH HELL YEAH!_ My girly parts were sizzling like water on a hot griddle at the sight and sound of my Forceful Edward. Right at that moment, I couldn't have cared less about anyone's wedding plans. I wanted to fuck this tall, sleek and sexy version of Dr. Phil until he couldn't walk straight.

"We're not calling it off!" they both protested in outrage.

"Why the hell not?" Edward asked, his voice rising.

_Oh, he is on a roll now_. My panties were definitely getting a little wetter than they'd been five minutes ago.

"It seems to me like it's more important for both of you to get your way than to think about how the other one feels," he wisely pointed out.

I nodded in agreement and turned my attention to Jake. "And what happened to all that talk about Alice being the only woman for you? You went on and on that day to me about how she was so strong and she was the kind of woman you'd dreamed of having by your side, and now you're pissed off because she's actually standing up to you and voicing her opinion?"

Edward glanced my way and raised a single eyebrow. We made eye contact and through our own brand of silent communication, decided that we were going to tag-team their asses into submission.

Edward looked squarely at Alice. "What happened to 'my darling Tay Tay', and all that cooing shit you guys did over Skype? You said Jake was the man you'd been searching for all your life, that he was the first man who had ever loved you for who you were and not for the size of your bank account, and now you're steamrolling over him like he's just a pebble underneath your shoe."

_Oh, goooood one, Edward. _Alice was a notorious steamroller, and sometimes she needed to be reminded of that.

"When you love someone, you put _their_ wants and needs above your own," he continued, and nobody knew how to do that any better than my Edward.

"You support each other, not tear each other down," I added, glancing at Edward for confirmation.

He nodded in agreement, and drove the point home. "So, if you can't do any of that, then just call it off, guys, because you'll never stay married if this is how you're going to act."

Jake was looking at the ground and Alice was picking at the delicate gold bracelet draped around her wrist and avoiding our eyes. Neither one said anything to defend their actions.

Edward shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. I'm adjourning this meeting and Bella and I are going home. If you guys decide to act like you have some sense, I'll still be your best man and play the piano at your reception, and Bella will be your maid of honor and sing."

He grabbed my hand, dug his car keys out of his pocket and pulled me along behind him to the driveway, leaving Jake and Alice to sort out their future on their own. We piled into the car, slammed the doors and stared out the windshield in silence.

"Let's go home and bang that headboard against the wall for awhile," I suggested out of the blue. "Whaddya say?"

He slid his eyes in my direction and grinned. "You read my mind, love."

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ A month later ~<br>**_

**EDWARD…**

"Edward! I need you!"

Alice's frantic screech caused me to stumble over the arpeggio, making it sound like a cat had just walked across the keyboard. I dropped my hands to my lap and waited for whatever crisis was coming my way. In seconds, Alice was standing at the edge of the baby grand with a look on her face that had me wondering if the zombie apocalypse had just started right in the middle of the reception. Bella scooted up behind her, out of breath and looking like she needed a nap.

"I can't find Jake and we're supposed to cut the cake in—" Alice glanced at Bella in a complete panic. "How long? When are we cutting the cake, Bella?"

Bella sighed and supplied the answer, her voice relatively calm in comparison to her frazzled friend. "In about twenty minutes, give or take a few."

"Can you find him for me?" Alice's pleading eyes, along with Bella's pointed glare, left no room for me to say no.

"Sure. I need a break from playing anyway."

Before setting off in search of the lost groom, I spent a few moments considering where Mr. Indigenous might be hiding. I seriously doubted he was anywhere in the house, or at least I hoped he wasn't. Twenty minutes wasn't near enough time to search a mansion this size. I headed outside, hoping that he was somewhere on the grounds getting spiritually in tune with Mother Earth. But with an estate the size of Texas, where to look first?

So, I put myself in his shoes and tried to get inside that brain of his. I was now a husband of less than two hours, married to one of the richest girls in the state who tended to be a little on the hyperactive, excitable side, and I'd just shaken more hands than a presidential candidate on the campaign trail. If I were Jake, I'd want some peace and quiet right about now. He was going to be somewhere as far away from the noise as he could get, probably on one of the numerous decks that seemed to jut out from every doorway of the house.

He was at the very first one I found, his forearms draped across the ornate railing and staring off into the distance. I doubted he was just admiring the beauty of the approaching sunset.

"There you are."

He turned his head and snickered. "I wondered how long it would take for her to send someone after me."

"They're cutting the cake in—" I glanced at my watch. "—about fifteen minutes or so."

He grinned. "Not without _me_ they aren't, and I'm taking a break."

I wasn't that interested in the streaks of pink, purple and orange in sky overhead, so I leaned my ass against the railing and stared at the ornate doorway in front of me.

"It was a nice ceremony," I offered.

After Bella and I had washed our hands of the wedding planning, they'd managed to arrive at a compromise all on their own. The Black wedding had turned out to be a very interesting eclectic mix of Quileute traditions and the modern stuff that Alice liked.

"It was, wasn't it?" Jake agreed, nodding.

Silence ensued as he stared out at the forested grounds and I inspected the brick and mortar of the Brandon mansion. This was a poignant moment, and neither one of us wanted to say what needed to be said.

"I fucked up," I finally said, sighing in resignation.

He looked up at me and frowned. "What did you do now?"

I hesitated and sighed again. "I should have put a ring on your finger when I had the chance. I waited a bit too long."

He rolled his eyes and laughed. "Shut up, you idiot."

He returned his gaze to the distance. I suddenly took an intense interest in my shoes, tracing the threads of the seams with my eyes. I was a coward when it came to goodbyes, always had been. Now was no different. The silence stretched on. Alice was probably having an aneurism as the minutes ticked away.

I finally found the courage to blurt it out. "I'm going to miss you."

I glanced his way in time to see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. His jaw visibly clenched and then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You're just going to miss my coffee," he said, still staring straight ahead.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but Bella makes better coffee than you."

A toothy smile took over his face. "Then it's my ass you're going to miss."

I sighed in appreciation and grinned. "You _do_ have a nice ass. You were always teasing me with it."

He looked up at me. Our eyes locked. I felt like running and never stopping. I was losing my best friend and it felt like shit. Then his eyes crinkled up and he laughed until he snorted. The sound was so contagious that I had to laugh with him.

"We are so fucking gay it isn't even funny," he finally said, snickering.

He was right. I loved this guy leaning against the railing trying to pretend that he was cool with everything. I knew him, just like he knew me. Neither one of us wanted to let go of whatever it had been that had held us together for the past three and half years. He just happened to be a little braver than me.

He stood up and turned, leaning his ass back against the railing and mirroring my pose. I felt his familiar penetrating stare on my face.

"New York isn't that far away, you know. And there's this awesome invention called an airplane," he said without any trace of humor. "As soon as we get back from our honeymoon and get settled into our place, I'm sending you two tickets. Don't even open your mouth about how much they cost, either. You and Bella can come for a visit and we'll show you around the Big Apple."

"I like the sound of that."

He looked surprised that I hadn't argued with him, but I was way beyond quibbling over silly things like money.

He raised his thumb and pinkie to his ear, pretending he had a phone. "You can call anytime."

I nodded, but it wasn't the same. God, I was being a complete wimp. I had Bella in my life, for now. I had a job that I loved, even though it didn't pay that well. I was thankful that things were finally taking a turn for the better. But Emily's loss still hurt, and now I was losing yet another huge part of my life, and I didn't know how to handle it. Talking on the phone wasn't the same as hanging out and watching the game while Alice and Bella went shopping. No phone call could ever compare to the two of us crawling underneath Harvey with nothing but a few tools and a car repair manual, and trying to figure out together how to fix that rusty piece of shit.

"It's going to be all right, Edward," he said softly, as if he could see inside my mind. "You're the brother I never had, and my best friend. You'll always be a part of my life, man."

I nodded bravely. "Same here."

Jake stuffed his fists in his pants pockets and I could tell by his body language that he was done with saying goodbyes. All I wanted to do now was go home and get drunk, or maybe just forego the beer and make love to Bella until we both passed out from exhaustion.

"So, when are you going to ask Bella to marry you?"

I started at his question, and floundered around for a suitable answer that he would believe, and that would spare me a lecture.

"I think she's a little afraid of marriage, to be honest. Her parents went through a pretty messy divorce and it left some scars."

He frowned at my answer, and I could tell he was going to argue with me about it, so I cut him off with the truth. "I consider myself lucky that she even let me back in her bed, Jake. I'm not pushing it. And you know what I'm talking about."

That stopped him in his tracks. Of course he knew. We'd both worked as prostitutes, me longer than him. He knew how lucky he was to have found a woman who could forget about all of that and accept him for the man he was now. Out of everything Bella had said to me that day by the duck pond—the day I'd pushed her so brutally out of my life—her statement about my profession had never faded from my memory. It haunted me, even now.

"_You have a girlfriend? You're a prostitute and you have a girlfriend who's going to actually marry you?" _

"You guys need to talk this out."

I shook my head. "I'm not going to be the one to bring it up. I might lose her if I do. So, I'm just going to enjoy every moment that I can with her and leave it at that."

He sighed and gave up, but that was mostly because he didn't have the time to argue with me about it.

"We need to get back to the reception. Alice is probably stroking out right now," I said, chuckling and trying to lighten things up.

I started to leave, but Jake wasn't following. "What did you get me for a wedding present?" he asked.

Wedding present? That would seem like a random question to anyone else, but as someone who knew Jake like the back of his hand, my radar went up.

I shrugged. "Uh, I'm not really sure. I mean, I went with Bella to buy it, but to be honest, I wasn't really paying attention."

"It's probably a blender or something equally useless," he muttered. "So, I'm going tell you what I _really_ want for a wedding gift, and if you don't get it for me, I'm going to kick your skinny ass."

I raised my eyebrows at him and waited, wondering at the strange turn our conversation had suddenly taken.

"While Alice and I are gone on our honeymoon, I want you to call Juilliard and find out if your scholarship is still good," he stated, and then crossed his arms like he was daring me to say no.

I frowned and then laughed. "No. That was a long-ago dream. I'm doing that 'real life' thing now, in case you haven't noticed."

Jake was not amused. He glared at me. "Dreams aren't worth shit if you keep them inside of your head. You've got to do something about them to make them come true. You're too damned good to be playing in night clubs. So, make the call while I'm gone, or I swear, I really _am_ going to kick your ass when I get back, and I probably won't speak to you for a very long time."

I saw it in his eyes; he wasn't joking. "It's probably expired."

"You'll never know unless you make that call."

Having a dream inside of your head was safe and easy. Letting it out to see if it could become a reality was much harder. And if you let it out, and it got crushed into a million tiny pieces what did you do then?

"Edwaaaard." His dark glare never wavered.

He'd never leave me alone until he got his way, so I nodded. I'd make the call.

* * *

><p><strong>BELLA… <strong>

I now knew what I _didn't_ want to be when I grew up: a wedding planner. Somehow, I'd been given the job of wedding coordinator by proxy. I hadn't asked for it, but here I was running around like a mad woman trying to keep things rolling along smoothly and making sure Alice didn't have a nervous breakdown in the process. Thankfully, the last dance of the reception was coming up and then Alice and Jake would be leaving for their honeymoon.

I needed a drink. I headed for the wet bar, but was intercepted by Jake just as the music began for the final dance.

"Dance with me," he said, and without waiting for an answer, he steered me out onto the dance floor.

"Shouldn't you be dancing this song with your bride?"

He slid an arm around my waist, grabbed my hand and we started swaying together. "She's upstairs getting changed and Edward's taking a piss break, so we're stuck with each other."

I stifled a giggle and concentrated on the dance steps. "The wedding was beautiful, wasn't it?"

He shook his head. "I don't care about that right now. We need to talk, and we have less than three minutes to do it, so just listen and don't interrupt."

I opened my mouth to say something, but he ignored me and plowed on. "Do you love Edward?" he asked bluntly.

Okay, that question sort of pissed me off. I glared at him like he'd lost his mind. "You know I do."

"Enough to marry him?"

I stuttered on that one. "Well…yes, of course. But I don't think Edward is ready for marriage right now. He's still in love with Emily and I just don't think he's ready for a commitment like that. It's too soon."

Jake made a frustrated sound. "That's complete bullshit. Emily isn't the reason he's dragging his feet. I know him, Bella. He's dying to marry you, but he thinks he's not good enough for you, because of Leather & Lace."

"What?"

I was stunned. Edward had never brought up the topic of marriage, not once, not even during all the fitting and rehearsals we'd gone through to prepare for Jake and Alice's wedding. It was a taboo subject between us, and I'd just assumed it was because he was still grieving Emily.

"Shit," Jake cursed softly. "The song's almost over. You have to do something to make him realize that you love him enough to be his wife, and that the Leather & Lace stuff doesn't matter. And don't even bother just trying to tell him. He won't listen. He's a stubborn asshole once he gets something embedded in that concrete head of his. You're going to have to hit him straight between the eyes with it, like with a sledgehammer or something, or he's never going to believe you and you'll die an old maid."

A few moments later, the song stopped, and there was nothing left to say. Jake was whisked away to change and Edward was by my side again, rice bag in hand and waiting to cheer the bride and groom off on their honeymoon.

He noticed my quietness. "Are you okay?"

I wasn't. My heart was breaking. How could this beautiful, selfless man think he wasn't good enough to be my husband, that I didn't want him because he'd been a prostitute? The tears pooled in my eyes at the thought of him feeling so rejected: first his parents, and now me.

"I'm fine." But the tears were streaking down my face now.

"I hope those are happy tears," he said, frowning down at me.

I nodded and lied. "Weddings always make me cry."

Amid the cheers, I mechanically tossed my rice and smiled, but my mind wasn't on the happy bride and groom. I was thinking of what I could possibly do or say to make Edward finally understand just how much I loved him.

* * *

><p>"<em>Bella, I'm home! I'm in New York!"<em>

I laughed at Alice's joyful squeals across the phone. "When did you get back?"

"_Oh, we've been back for a few days, but kept it on the down-low so we'd have some quiet time to settle into our tiny little love nest together."_

She giggled. I rolled my eyes. Alice and Jake's "tiny little love nest" was a top-floor four-bedroom penthouse in Lower Manhattan. Her bathroom was probably bigger than my whole apartment. But I guess when you'd grown up in a house that was a big as a major hotel then a little old penthouse _would_ seem tiny.

"How was your honeymoon?"

"_We'll talk about that later when you come for a visit. Right now, we have something waaaay more important to discuss."_

Oh boy. I knew that voice. That was Alice's I'm-Butting-My-Nose-In-Your-Business voice.

"What?" I asked, and there was no way she could miss my lack of enthusiasm, but she was used to that.

"_Jake told me all about his conversation with Edward at the reception. We've got to do something to get that man to propose to you!" _

"Uh…no, _we_ don't," I stated emphatically.

Then I was forced to listen to the most cockamamie, outlandish schemes I'd ever heard in my life to try and get Edward down on bended knee. They were classic Alice: completely over-the-top and way too expensive.

"_What about hiring one of those little airplanes that pull those cute little banners behind them? You could have them write something romantic on it and then fly it over the stadium at the next big football game. It'll be on TV and everything!"_

"Alice, NO! He would be mortified!"

I could practically hear the wind gush out of her million dollar sails through the phone.

"_But Jake said it's going take something big to make him see the light. A plain old candlelight dinner isn't going to be enough, honey. You're going to have to do something completely spectacular, something he'll be forced to notice and will never forget as long as he lives."_

Alice's words triggered something, some creative spark deep down inside of me that I didn't even know was there. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. All the thinking and worrying over the past two weeks coalesced into the most amazing idea I'd ever had in my entire life.

"Alice, I just had the most incredible idea."

She listened as I explained it to her. When I was finished, there was total silence on her end. I began to wonder if we'd been disconnected, or if she'd had a heart attack at my sheer brilliance.

"_Oh. My. God. That is perfect, Bella. Absolutely perfect."_

I smiled at her approval. Edward wasn't going to know what hit him.


	18. Chapter 18: New York

**Chapter 18: New York**

**BELLA…**

I arrived home from work to find an empty apartment devoid of cooking smells and a note on the kitchen table:

_Had to run to the post office before it closed. Sorry about dinner. Please don't spank me too hard, okay?_

_Love you._

_E_

"Spank you too hard?" I snickered. "Oh, don't tempt me."

I started dinner, humming to myself and trying to ignore the image in my mind of Edward bent over, his jeans pushed down to his ankles, thighs spread open, tight, naked ass waiting, his long fingers gripping the edge of the table as he braced himself for the first stroke of my paddle.

My face blushed hot with embarrassment, despite being alone. "Damn you, Edward," I swore softly and then smiled. How was I supposed to concentrate on cooking with Edward Cullen porno flicks playing in my head?

Dinner was just coming out of the oven when I heard the front door open and close. When I turned to set the dish of chicken on the table, I saw him leaning against the kitchen doorway looking sweet, but a little hesitant. He had a bunch of letters in one hand, and the other stuck in his pocket.

"So, I get to spank you?" I teased, grinning crookedly.

The hesitancy evaporated, and in an instant Escort Edward was standing in my kitchen. He gave me a sexy smirk and arched an eyebrow seductively. "I'm trained in BDSM, you know."

_Oh shit. _ We stared at each other, the sexual tension swirling, heating the room. I was wet, and he had a distinctive bulge just beginning to blossom in his jeans.

"Is that something you would enjoy?" he asked in that same soft, seductive voice he'd used the night of my birthday.

"Uh…."

I was too busy deciding who should be the dom and who the sub to give him an intelligent answer. He laughed softly and broke the spell.

"I love it when you blush." He crossed the room, kissed my cheek, and then tossed the mail on the table. "What's for dinner?" In the blink of an eye Escort Edward was gone, and my beautiful fallen angel in the ratty t-shirt and jeans was back.

"Uh, Ranch Chicken," I stuttered, feeling the need to grab one of those letters to fan myself with.

Edward settled into his chair and sorted through the mail a piece at a time. "Bill. Bill. Junk. Bill. Aha!"

He held one letter up and waved it around, grinning. "From Jake and Alice. Our plane tickets, I'll bet."

We dished out the food, and Edward read the brief note that was with the tickets while we ate. Jake had enrolled in Columbia. Alice's dad was paying his tuition with the stipulation that he had to work for the DLB Group full-time for five years after he graduated. After the five years were up, he had the option to leave without having to pay back the tuition.

"Pretty sweet deal," Edward murmured.

I nodded, impressed. "What about Alice?"

Edward scanned the note. "It says she's considering Pratt, whatever that is."

I laughed at Edward's fashion ignorance, but of course, he hadn't spent the last several years with a best friend who was obsessed with all things Seventh Avenue.

"It's a private college in Brooklyn. They have a top notch fashion design program."

"Aah, I see." He dug around in the envelope and came out with two airline tickets. "They're for next Thursday evening. That means we'll be in New York on Saturday."

Saturday. My birthday. It couldn't have worked out better if we'd planned it.

"So, since we're on that subject, what do you want for your birthday anyway?" he asked.

Oh, this was such an easy question. "There's only one thing that I want." I opened my mouth to tell him, but he stopped me.

"Wait! Let me see if I can guess." He pecked the table with his index finger, lost in thought. "A flat screen TV," he said finally. My old thrift shop TV was on its last cathode-ray-tube legs and was going to die any day, but replacing that piece of technological crap was way down on my list of priorities.

"Nope."

He drummed his fingers some more. "An e-reader."

That would be nice, but it was a luxury we couldn't afford. The library was still free last time I checked.

"Nope."

He frowned and bit his lip. Then he smiled knowingly. "I know. That little red dress you saw the other night. I can get you some matching shoes, matching underwear, some jewelry to go with it, and you can get your hair done, your nails, maybe a facial. The whole nine yards."

He knew I wasn't a girly-girl like Alice. I threw a roll at him for teasing me. It bounced off the side of his head and ended up in the floor. He laughed and then fussed at me for wasting good bread.

"Okay, I give up. Tell me," he said, folding his arms across his chest and waiting.

What I wanted was expensive. The money would have been better spent buying a new television, or paying off some bills. But, there was that YOLO thing.

"I'd like to go to the symphony while we're in New York."

His mouth dropped open and then after a few stunned seconds it snapped shut again. "That sounds more like a birthday gift for _me_ instead of you."

"It's a gift for _both_ of us. Let's face facts. What passes for an orchestra in this town is pretty pathetic. We have a chance to go to the Philharmonic, so let's take it. I've already checked into it, and if I remember correctly, there's a performance next Friday night. Mozart and Mahler."

"Mozart. Damn," he whispered, shaking his head, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Who's conducting?"

"Some Rafael guy?"

"Rafael Fruebeck du Burgos? Holy shit!" His fingers made their way to his hair, something he did when he was nervous or excited. "We have to go! That man's a genius!"

I was thrilled that he was excited, but of course I felt obligated to bring up the money issue. Frugality had been a way of life for me as long as I could remember.

"The seats we can afford are probably in the rafters, but that's better than nothing, right?" I asked tentatively.

Edward shot up from the table and paced the floor, his fingers raking even more messy furrows through his hair. "To hell with the rafters. We're sitting as close as we can get. We have the money."

It was my mouth that dropped open this time. "We do?"

He stopped his pacing. "Yeah. I put my Leather & Lace suits on eBay. That's why I had to go the post office. I sold them last night." He must have thought my look of shock meant disapproval, because he continued his explanation in a rush. "Those were designer suits. Those things cost me a ton of money. I figured if I got a third of what I paid, I'd be happy, but damn, somebody bid over _half_ of what I paid for them! We've got the money, and some left over to pay off a few of your bills."

I wasn't sure whether to thank him or cry. I loved those suits, especially the one he'd worn the night of my birthday. He looked so elegant and sophisticated in them, so handsome. And almost immediately I wanted to smack my inconsiderate, superficial self for thinking only with my girly parts. He didn't need them anymore. They'd just been taking up valuable space in my small closet, and he was offering to pay off my bills, which he wasn't in any way responsible for, plus pay for our tickets. Was there even one selfish bone in this man's body?

He seemed confused by my silence, and the tears that were threatening to break free. "Are you mad?"

I shook my head and practically threw myself into his arms. "I love you."

"Not as much as I love you," he murmured into my hair. "Never that much."

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ New York City – Thursday evening ~ <strong>_

**BELLA…**

Alice and Jake's "tiny little love nest" turned out to be the most amazing penthouse I'd ever seen. The Brandon mansion back home was definitely swanky, but it had been decorated by Alice's mom, and her dad didn't want anything changed. Here, Alice had complete freedom to decorate any way she wanted, and as I looked around, I finally understood for the very first time that my best friend was wildly talented in all things style-related.

We wandered from room to room while Jake and Alice hung back and snickered at my reaction. The great room was wall to wall windows, and not just those boring square ones like at my place. These were arched panes that reached from floor to ceiling; the cityscape that lay beyond the glass almost felt like part of the interior design. The beige L-shaped sofa with its perfectly placed throw pillows looked too beautiful to even sit on. A shiny black baby grand was nestled into one corner and Edward gravitated to it like a moth to a flame. He played a quick arpeggio while I ogled the view through the windows.

"This place is epic," I marveled. Alice beamed at my compliment.

We spent Thursday night, our first in New York, just hanging out at the penthouse and catching up on each other's mundane news. It was good to see Edward laughing and joking with Jake, and telling him funny drunk stories from his nights playing at Circa 1926. And the absurd amount of time they spent discussing that rusty piece of metallic crap named Harvey boggled both mine and Alice's minds. They got so involved in a conversation about the symptoms of a bad wheel bearing and how to fix it, that you would have thought they were discussing the health and well-being of a human child. I glanced at Alice and she shot me a small, wistful smile. She saw it, too. Edward and Jake needed to be near each other, not separated by hundreds of miles. I'd noticed an unsettling quietness in Edward of late, and I could only attribute it to the fact that he missed his best friend more than he wanted to admit.

We finally called it a night at two in the morning, after a lively discussion on how we would spend the rest of our time in the city. I was so tired that I barely noticed the luxurious furnishings in our spacious bedroom. The only thing that mattered, as I stared out the arched windows at the star-filled night sky, was the man lying next to me in bed, with his long legs curled in with mine and his palm cupping one of my breasts.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ New York City – Friday ~<strong>_

As much as we were tempted to do the tacky tourist thing—complete with throwaway cameras, tennis shoes and checked shorts—we decided to forgo the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, Ground Zero, and the rest. Since Alice and Jake's newly-married feet were firmly planted in NYC for the foreseeable future, we figured there would be plenty of weekends down the road to do all of the normal sightseeing.

We threw ideas around that morning over breakfast until we finally agreed to split up into pairs for the day. I couldn't say I was crazy about hitting Fifth Avenue with Alice for a marathon shopping spree, but she was determined to buy me something extra special for my birthday this year. Besides, I didn't mind Edward spending the day with Jake at the museum. They needed some male bonding time with each other a lot worse than I needed a new outfit, so I was willing to sacrifice a few hours of my day for the sake of Edward's emotional health.

Later, I couldn't help but wonder what Edward and Jake were doing while I was rushing to keep up with Alice. They were probably leisurely strolling through the hushed and hallowed halls of the Met, stopping to comment on some display, sitting in a small café sipping lattes and talking quietly, while I was running the gauntlet of a crowded New York City sidewalk on a typical workday. We went from store to store until the names and storefronts all began to run together, the clothing in the windows began to all look alike. I protested a couple of times that she could never get me any nicer gift than the one I'd received from her the year before—she'd given me the man I'd fallen in love with, after all—but she'd just smile, wink and say, "Oh, we'll find something, Bella."

And we did. Oh boy, did we ever find something.

Note to self: never disclose intensely personal or intimate information to Alice, ever, _ever_ again.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ New York City - Friday evening ~<strong>_

I don't know what made me think Mozart was so great. That long-dead violinist and his symphonies couldn't hold a candle to the man sitting beside me who was completely enthralled by the performance. The music was beautiful, the acoustics astonishingly clear; the building that housed the New York Philharmonic was an architectural masterpiece, the fashionably-dressed people interesting, but all of that paled in comparison to watching Edward.

His eyes never left the stage, and even slid shut a time or two, as if he were privately enjoying a particularly beautiful passage behind the quiet of his eyelids. I didn't exist in those two hours, but that was okay, because Edward was in a happy place where I couldn't go with him. I realized as I watched him smile, his eyes sparkling, his face overcome with a joy that I'd never seen before, that this was where he belonged. Even though he was doing the right thing by working at Circa 1926 to support himself, he deserved way better than that. Edward should be up on that stage, not in the audience. Toward the end of the performance, he slid his hand over to mine, grasping it tightly and giving me a loving smile. He mouthed the words, 'Thank you' as the final round of thunderous applause took over the auditorium.

In the taxi ride back to the penthouse, he told me all the things he'd been too mesmerized to talk about during the performance: the fact that the Philharmonic had thirty-one chairs in the violin section. The musician in the first chair, the most prestigious, was called the Concertmaster. He led the violin section and did all the orchestral solos for that instrument. The other thirty chairs were divided into first violins, which carried the high melodies, and second violins, which handled the accompaniment. He confided to me that he'd give his left nut to be in one of those thirty-one chairs. He wasn't picky; he'd take number 31 even if it was a rotating seat with the lowest seniority.

At that moment, I set a goal. Edward was going to pursue music on a higher level than just a piano player at a night club, even if I had to call Julliard myself and beg them on hands and knees to give him his scholarship back.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ New York City – Saturday evening~<strong>_

We gave in to the tourist temptation just a little, and spent the early part of the day in Central Park taking a horse and carriage tour of the grounds. After that, Alice wanted to show us the NYC branch of her daddy's company, the DLB Group, as well as Columbia University, where Jake would be completing his studies. We passed by Julliard along the way—Edward pointed it out to me—and it looked nothing like I imagined a prestigious music school should look like, but that strange triangular building was going to be Edward's future home away from home if I had anything to do with it.

It was Saturday, my birthday, and we had very _ordinary_ plans for this evening, which suited me just fine. Alice and I had discussed things ahead of time, via phone calls, on how to celebrate. Apparently, Edward and Jake had done the same behind our backs. And strangely enough, the general consensus of us all was that we would just have a nice, quiet dinner at home, with the four of us preparing the meal together. Dinner, conversation with friends, wine and dancing: my kind of birthday celebration.

Edward, with his newfound culinary skills, chopped the vegetables for the salad, only wasting a few carrots, which he "accidentally" launched through the air and at the back of Jake's head. I stepped in before a full-blown food fight could start in their pristine kitchen. I watched Alice and Jake as they prepared the main course together. Happiness radiated out of both of them and spread infectiously throughout the room. They were so good together, so flirty and sweet, laughing and teasing each other as they worked. Theirs was the kind of marriage I wanted. I stared up at Edward's face. He turned those beautiful blue-gray eyes in my direction, smiled, and then stopped chopping long enough to steal a quick kiss.

"Happy Birthday," he murmured against my lips.

By the time dessert rolled around, I began to suspect that something sneaky was going on with Jake and Edward. In fact, the more I thought back over the past several days, the more I began to remember the little clues that had zipped right over my head before: conversations on the phone, back at our apartment, that would stop the moment I entered the room; Edward looking at me funny and then pretending he was just adoring my beautiful profile when he got caught; the secretive whisperings between him and Jake yesterday when they thought no one was paying attention. Oh yeah, those two were up to no good, and there was no way Alice could keep her nose out of something like this. Whatever it was, she was in on it, too. I'd bet anything. If she'd managed to somehow convince Edward to spend a ton of money on me for some over-the-top, wildly extravagant (and probably embarrassing) birthday gift, I was going to kill _both_ of them!

Dinner was over, the dishwasher loaded and all kitchen surfaces cleaned. One empty wine bottle and another one halfway gone, stood tall on the Great Room coffee table, nestled among the empty and forgotten wine glasses. Jake and Alice were on the far side of the room, near the entrance to the kitchen, swaying to the soft music filtering out from hidden speakers. Their flirty laughter and quiet, intimate giggles made me smile as I stared out the arched windows at the lights of New York City.

"You like it here?" Edward was standing behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist. His warm breath bathed the side of my face as he touched his lips to my temple.

"I do," I whispered, smiling out at the darkness and snuggling even deeper into Edward's embrace. His arms tightened around me.

"So do I," he said. "This city is so alive. It makes you feel like anything's possible."

We fell silent and just stared out the windows together. New York City reminded me of a marathon runner: full of breath, strength, perseverance and determination. The city never rested. It didn't need to pause at sunset to get its "second wind" for the long night that lay ahead. I agreed with Edward. There was a tireless energy in this place that was invigorating to the soul. I could be happy here, but the realist in me was laughing at the idea. What was I thinking? Edward and I could barely afford a night at the symphony, let alone an apartment of our own.

Edward sighed and turned me around in his arms until I was facing him. "Let's dance."

I snickered. _Dance? Edward? _

He rolled his eyes at my reaction. "Okay, bad choice of words. Let's _sway._"

We swayed a little while, but I could tell that Edward's heart wasn't in it. I knew him well enough now to recognize the signs. Something was bothering him. I didn't think it was anything bad, because he wasn't sad or moody. He'd laughed and joked around the entire evening, but still…there was something not quite right with him.

He suddenly stopped swaying and pulled away from me so he could see my face. "I feel like I should have gotten you something else for your birthday."

Aaah, so that was it.

"I think I enjoyed the symphony more than you did," he continued, watching my face carefully. "I just feel like I should get you another gift. Did you see anything you wanted while you were out shopping with Alice?"

The opportunity I'd been waiting for had just fallen into my lap. I snuck a quick glance across the room and locked eyes with Alice. She crossed her fingers behind Jake's back and grinned at me over his shoulder.

I gathered my courage—how in the world did guys manage to do this without shitting their underwear?—and nervously met Edward's waiting gaze.

"Well, now that you ask, there is something else that I want."

Edward's entire body visibly relaxed in relief. He was such a sweet man to waste so much time worrying over a stupid birthday gift. I wanted to just yank that beautiful mouth down to mine and kiss the hell out of him, and then make love to his sexy ass all night long until he couldn't walk straight. Instead, I took his hand in mine and slowly sunk down onto one knee, keeping my eyes locked on his.

His eyebrows pulled together in a confused frown. I could almost see the wheels spinning in his head as he came to grips with what was unfolding before his eyes.

He shook his head. "Get up," he whispered softly enough for only me to hear.

I shook my head, holding tight to his hand.

"Bella….no," he whispered, his voice shaking.

I ignored his words, ignored my nervousness, and ignored the overwhelming fear of rejection that could be coming my way any minute. I ignored it all and just plowed on. Never in my life had I felt as vulnerable as I did at that very moment. How in God's name did guys do this?

"Will you marry me, Edward?"

He should have seen it coming, but the look on his face was pure shock, like I'd hit him with it completely out of the blue. His mouth dropped open and then abruptly snapped shut, the bones in his angular jaw clenching. Only a few seconds had passed since the question, but it seemed like hours to me. Waiting. Watching the emotions sweep across his face: shock, confusion, and finally sadness. I was stunned to see his smoky gray eyes grow shiny with unshed tears. Oh God. Was he going to turn me down?

"I've slept with so many women that I've lost count," he said, his voice soft and sad. "I sold my body for four years to anyone who would pay. How could you love a man like me?"

My first reaction was to rage at him, to get up and pound his chest with both my fists, and scream my love to him so fucking loudly that he would be forced to finally accept it. I was angry, but not at him. I was angry at life and how it just seemed to shit all over some people, while leaving others alone. I was angry at Emily for not dying after that wreck, angry at his parents for rejecting him, angry at the women who'd used him for their own pleasure, even though he'd made the decision to work for Leather and Lace. I was angry at everyone who was even remotely involved in breaking Edward's beautiful soul into pieces. Tears stung my eyes, and there was no way I could hold them back. I wasn't even going to try.

I slowly rose from my knee and stood, still holding tightly to his hand. I stubbornly held onto his gaze. A searing hot tear streaked down my cheek, and then more followed in its wake. I ignored them. "You gave up everything for Emily: your family, your future, and even your own happiness. You sacrificed everything for her. How could I _not_ love a man like you?"

He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and looked away. He wasn't going to answer, but that was all right, because it was a rhetorical question anyway.

"Edward."

He snapped his eyes back to mine, just as I sank back down onto one knee again, still holding onto his hand.

"I would be honored to be your wife," I said softly, looking up into his shimmering blue/gray eyes. "Edward Anthony Cullen…will you marry me?"

He swallowed hard, bit his quivering lip and then finally he nodded. "Yes," he answered softly.

"Woooohooo!"

Hoots and yelps came from the other side of the room. I jumped up into Edward's arms at the same time Jake and Alice rushed over and gathered us both into a big, exuberant, laughing, giggling, shouting, back slapping group hug. I found Edward's waist in all the hoopla and slid my arms around it and held on tight, burying my face in his chest and drying my happy tears with his shirt.

"Way to go, Bella!" Alice hooted, once the group hug fell apart. We slapped palms triumphantly. "I still think we should have gotten one of those little airplanes to pull a banner across the sky, but hey, this worked, so I'm going to try not to be absolutely crushed that you shot down my amazing idea."

I giggled at her fake pouting, and looked to see Edward's reaction. He wasn't even paying attention. He and Jake were doing that silent communication thing with their eyes again. I'd forgotten how good they were at that. Something was up.

"Wait. I'm afraid I spoke too soon," Edward said quietly. All eyes turned to him, but he was looking only at me. "Actually, I can't marry you. Well, I mean I _can_ marry you, but I have a couple of conditions first."

_Conditions? _ What possible conditions could there be? Neither one of us was rich, so we didn't need a prenup. We weren't religious, so neither one of us needed to convert. I frantically searched my inexperienced relationship brain for something Edward would use as a condition to marry me. I came up empty.

"First, I want you to sing to me at our wedding."

I smiled in relief. This condition was easy. "I can do that. What's the other one?"

It was Edward's turn to hesitate, like he was silently gathering his own store of courage. "I want you to go to Julliard with me next semester. They reinstated my scholarship."

I squealed and jumped into his arms again, shouting to the mountaintops that of course I'd go with him. I'd tell my boss to shove it Monday morning and I'd move to New York with him in a heartbeat! I was sure I could find some kind of little menial office job around here somewhere, but I wasn't really worried about the trivial things, like my job or where we would live. What was really important was that Edward was finally going to be doing what he loved. He was finally going to make that dream come true.

"No love, you don't understand," he said after the celebrating had wound down. "I didn't mean for you to just come to New York to live with me. I meant that I want you to _attend_ Julliard _with_ me. I sent them an audition tape of your performance at Jake and Alice's wedding, along with an application. They scheduled you for a live audition. You don't get one of those from Julliard unless they're really interested in you."

The room went silent except for the muted romantic music that was still playing softly in the background. Alice had both her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Jake (the ass) was grinning. So _this_ was what the two of them had been up to!

I shook my head. I wasn't in Edward's league, talent-wise. I was an amateur; a weekend karaoke performer and occasional wedding singer. Julliard would laugh me out the door as soon as I sung the first note. This was Edward's dream and he was messing it up by including me in it.

"Bella, you're very talented," Edward insisted, and then he chuckled. "Julliard doesn't request a live audition from people who suck. You're good. They know it; everyone else knows it, too. It's only _you _who doesn't seem to know it."

I shook my head in denial. "I can't. This is your dream, not mine. I'll just mess it up."

Edward shrugged, sighed and folded his arms across his chest. "Okay, then I guess we aren't getting married."

I glared at him, letting him know in no uncertain terms that I did _not_ appreciate his attempt to coerce me. "You've already said 'yes', so you can't back out," I stated stubbornly.

He shook his head. "You didn't meet my conditions so, yes, I most certainly _can_ back out."

"But you didn't give me the conditions until _after_ you'd said 'yes', so they don't count!" I snapped back.

"Well_, I'm_ counting them, and I'm the one who matters because _I'm _the ask-ee," he said, just as stubbornly.

"The what?"

He didn't answer. We just stared at each other in stubborn silence. I was perfectly willing to move to New York with him, to work at some POS job to support us while he worked his way through Julliard. I was willing to do whatever I had to do to make his dream come true. But actually go to school with him?

"Jesus Bella, but you're stubborn," Jake said, smirking. "Just say you'll go to Julliard with him and get it over with, because we aren't going to let up on you until you do."

"You're talented as hell," Alice piped in, nodding her agreement. "I've tried to tell you that for a long time, but you never would listen to me. This is your chance, sweetie. Take it."

I looked at her, at Jake and finally up at Edward. I saw the determination in all of their faces. "I can't afford to go to Julliard," I protested. "Edward has the scholarship, not me."

Alice grinned and winked. "Interest-free loan courtesy of your extremely generous and overwhelmingly sweet…_and rich_… BFF."

Oh good lord. I knew better than to argue with Alice when she got in the mood to give away free money. I would lose that argument before it even started.

"But, where will we live?" I asked, feeling sure that the financial considerations of us moving to New York would throw a cold splash of reality into the face of their argument.

"All freshmen are required to live on campus for the first year," Edward answered. "After the first year is over, we're going to live here."

"Here?" I asked, stunned. "What do you mean 'here'?"

"One floor down," Jake said, answering for Edward. "Daddy Brandon owns the top two floors of this building, two apartments per floor. The one directly below us is vacant, and he planned on using it for business, but when I filled him in on Edward's plans to move to New York and go to Julliard, he said you guys could live there rent free!"

Alice's clapped her hands on her hips and glared at her sneaky husband. "Just when did this conversation with Daddy take place, and why didn't you let me in on this little secret?"

Jake grinned and tapped Alice's perky nose with his fingertip. "Because you, my sweet Ali, couldn't keep a secret if your life depended on it, and we wanted this to be a surprise for Bella."

She slapped his chest with both palms and growled at him. Edward laughed at their fake fighting and then turned his attention to me.

"So? Do you accept my conditions?"

Geez. What was I getting myself into? But when I looked deep into Edward's eyes, what I saw stopped me dead in my tracks and erased all of my lingering doubts. I saw fear and uncertainty. He was afraid that I was going to say no. I never wanted to see him look at me that way again.

"I accept your conditions."

A huge smile took over his face. "Then I would be honored to be your husband."

He pulled me into his arms, cupped my chin in his fingers and kissed me, long, hard and deep, nipping at my bottom lip and sucking it gently into his mouth. A tingle shot down my stomach and straight down between my thighs. I felt him getting hard and pressing against my stomach as he lingered over my mouth.

"Oh goodie! I get to plan a wedding!" Alice squealed, clapping in excitement behind us.

We broke our kiss just long enough for me to groan, and for Edward to whisper a sarcastic, 'Oh goodie' against my mouth.

Then we laughed and went back to kissing.


	19. Chapter 19: The Wedding

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Nearly every fanfic wedding I've read has been written from the bride's point of view. I wanted to put myself in a man's shoes instead, and try to figure out what goes through their heads in this most stressful, but beautiful step in their lives. I think it's much different than what women think about, because men just think differently. LOL It was fun to write the wedding in Edward's voice.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19: The Wedding<strong>

_**~ New York City, late October ~ **_

**EDWARD… **

Anyone who stated a big city was nothing but smog and annoying traffic had never seen Central Park in the fall. Even through the glass windows of the small make-shift dressing room, the reds, oranges and yellows were still vivid against the clear blue of the mid-afternoon sky. Skyscrapers towered beyond the trees, like silent sentinels keeping watch over the city.

"You don't have that tie on _yet? _Come here._"_

My best man—that would be Jake— seemed to be more flustered than I was. But to be fair, I _was _supposed to have been putting the finishing touches on my wardrobe while he was gone, but I'd gotten distracted by the view and the music.

"The wedding starts in twenty minutes, Edward, and you're not ready."

As he fussed over my tie—taking entirely too long to get it knotted just right—I listened to the distant and muted strains of classical music filtering into the room from the string quartet we'd hired for the wedding and the reception.

Jake finally finished with the tie and took a step back to give me a head-to-toe appraisal. He took a deep breath and then sighed. "You look great, but you've been really quiet today. Are you getting cold feet?"

_Cold feet? _

"I'm not getting cold feet," I said, rolling my eyes and chuckling at his ludicrous suggestion that I would be nervous about marrying Bella. "Today is just about making it legal. In my heart, I've been married to Bella since the day I moved in with her."

I expected an 'awww' or at least a relieved smile, but I didn't get it. Jake was eyeing me like a bug under a microscope and I bristled uncomfortably at the inspection. "What?"

"So…is it Emily?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, I've made my peace with all of that." Of course, she'd been in my thoughts a lot during the wedding planning, but in the end, I had no regrets about how I'd handled things with her. I'd done what I'd needed to do to keep her comfortable, and she'd been happy being my wife for the few shorts months we'd had together.

"Okay, it's not cold feet and it's not Emily, but there's something wrong. I know you, so spill it. And we don't have all day for you to dance around it and pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about."

I turned away from him and focused on the view from the window. Best friends who could read you like an open book were annoying as hell at times. And this was definitely one of those times. "Did you spend any time talking to Bella's parents at the rehearsal dinner?" I asked.

"Just a few minutes, but it was long enough," Jake answered, snickering. "Every time her dad looked in your direction, his hand drifted to his waist, like was reaching for his invisible gun, and Bella's mom is…" He stopped, shaking his head.

I laughed. "Yeah, she is, and you don't have to elaborate. I know exactly what you mean."

Charlie was polite, but still hadn't fully accepted the fact that his daughter was marrying an ex-escort/prostitute. I'd felt him staring me down more than once during rehearsal. And Bella hadn't been exaggerating when she'd described her mother as being in diapers when she'd first married Charlie. In my opinion, she had yet to progress beyond the training pants stage. But…they were her parents. They loved her. They supported her. They were here.

It didn't take Jake long to connect the dots. "Oh. Your parents."

"Yeah. We sent them an invitation with plenty of time to spare, making sure they knew they had to RSVP because of limited seating." I shook my head. "We heard nothing back."

He swore softly under his breath. "Maybe the invitation got lost in the mail. Did you call?"

The bitterness in my laugh surprised even me. "The last time I tried that, my dad hung up on me."

Jake sighed and patted my back. "I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do."

I thanked him for offering but there wasn't anything anyone could do once your parents decided that you weren't good enough to be their son anymore.

We spent the remaining minutes with Jake inspecting every inch of my body—brushing stray lint from my clothes, straightening my tie, and anything else he could find wrong with me—until I finally swatted him away with a fist punch to the shoulder.

"Shit, that hurt!" he cursed softly, rubbing his shoulder. "Nervous much?"

"I'm not nervous at all," I answered, laughing. "But I think my best man is."

Jake opened his mouth to argue, but at that opportune moment the door burst open. "Everybody decent?" Alice didn't even wait for a yay or nay. She peeked around the edge of the door and grinned. "Showtime in five minutes, guys."

* * *

><p>The first thing I noticed was purple—the tablecloths and flowers were all varying shades of it. It was Bella's favorite color, and when asked mine, I'd shrugged and told her to choose whatever pleased her and I'd be fine with it. I couldn't hold back the smile, because I was surrounded by Bella's happiness everywhere I looked, and she wasn't even in the room yet.<p>

Everyone was staring at me with adoring expressions, which was a little uncomfortable, but I managed to ignore it and remember that weddings tended to do that to people. Ours was to be a small affair, despite Alice's efforts to the contrary. We'd finally settled on The Terrace Room at the Met because, 1) Jake and I just loved the hell out of this museum, and 2) it was the perfect size for a small wedding and the price tag was the right size, as well. There were thirty-six seats available for guests. I swept my eyes over the room, pleased to see that some of our friends from our respective homes had made the long trip to New York to see us wed. But two empty seats in the very back reminded me that there were two people who'd decided that seeing their only son get married wasn't worth their time.

I could let that sad fact drag me down or I could push it out of my mind and focus on the positives of today, which is what I did while waiting for Bella to appear. I turned my attention to the piano and the string quartet from Julliard tucked away discreetly in the corner, yet making their presence known with the incredible sounds resonating from their strings. Julliard's community outreach performers were the best of the best, playing at weddings, bar mitzvahs, graduations and the like, and their fee was quite reasonable. I'd give my left nut to be one of those two violinists. I wouldn't even consider playing the violin at social functions, while doing my studies, to be work. It would be a _joy_. I made a note to self to check into that opportunity after we got settled into a routine.

When they started playing _Air on a G String,_ I remembered someone at the wedding rehearsal mentioning that it would be the last song before Bella's appearance. My nerves awoke with a vengeance, so much so that I couldn't even enjoy one of my most favorite pieces of Bach's music. A lump formed in my throat. My stomach clenched and I wondered if my pants were unzipped. Surely Jake would have noticed that, wouldn't he? I fought the urge to look down and check, keeping my hands clasped tightly together in front of the area in question to hide it in case Jake had been careless. I wondered if maybe I could use the fingers that were tucked beneath my other hand to do a quick zipper check, but decided against it. I'd wait until we were facing the preacher. As a fellow male, he would understand the groom engaging in a bit of crotch fumbling.

Fuck! What in the world had possessed Bach to write such a short damned song! The piece was almost over; my legs felt weak, like I'd ran a marathon without resting. I hoped no one noticed that the groom was on the verge of shitting his pants from sheer nervousness. I felt like I was seconds away from making a complete fool of myself.

Jake leaned closer to me, ducked his head down and whispered, "Your pants are zipped. I double-checked. Relax."

If I could have, I would have kissed the hell out of that beautiful man who was my best friend. I nodded and gave a sigh of relief just as the quartet started playing Pachelbel's _Canon in D._

The atmosphere instantly changed. All heads turned to the back of the room waiting expectantly for the bride to make her entrance. I felt ready to toss up my breakfast as the seconds passed by and no Bella. What was the hold up? I said a silent prayer that everything was okay with her. I didn't want anything to go wrong and ruin this day for her.

Then some little girl whom I barely knew—the daughter of one of Bella's friends from work— suddenly burst through the doors at the back of the room and began hurriedly dropping flowers on the purple runner doubling as our makeshift aisle. A few feet in front of me she tossed down the last stray petal and then scuttled away in embarrassment while the audience chuckled.

Then came the bride's attendants. Shit. I'd forgotten about all the junk that came before the actual wedding. I hadn't paid the closest attention at the rehearsal dinner, much to Alice's consternation. If someone had asked me later what the attendants had been wearing, I couldn't have told them. A dress? Hell, I didn't know or care. The only woman who mattered to me today had yet to enter the room.

Then she was suddenly there, standing just inside the doors, preparing to walk down the purple aisle to the beautiful music of Johann Pachelbel.

Our eyes made contact and we both smiled. My nervousness melted away. God, she was beautiful. I devoured every inch of her as she slowly made her way to me. Her father was by her side, but I barely noticed him.

That dress! It was stunning on her, and I was immensely proud of her for standing her ground against Alice. On occasion I actually _had _paid attention to their conversations about the wedding, especially during the three days they'd spent arguing over the dress. On the third and final day of 'negotiations', Jake and I pretended we were engrossed in a ball game on television when in reality we were eavesdropping in case things came to blows. We snickered quietly when Bella finally put her foot down and stated that she was _not_ going to wear an old-fashioned wedding dress with a train that reached to California! Did Alice really want her to trip and fall flat on her ass in front of the whole room? And she wasn't going to wear a stupid veil either! And she was going to wear her hair down and not up in some elaborate mess that she'd never be able to get undone by herself later on! Then Alice got her panties in a bunch at the very idea that anyone would even the use the words 'old-fashioned' to describe one of her designs. After several hours of glaring and not speaking to each other, they finally reached an agreement, much to mine and Jake's relief.

Bella had gotten her way on every single point, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. The dress was short in the front, falling only to her mid thighs. I wanted to run my hands up those slender silky legs. The top part of the dress was strapless and tight, hugging her glorious curves in a very sexy way. The back part was full length, but it didn't drag behind her like a train. It barely touched the floor and swayed deliciously with her hips as she walked. Her hair had been curled and was hanging loose around her shoulders in mahogany waves. Damn, I could hardly wait until tonight. Maybe I'd make her put that fuck-hot wedding dress back on so I could slowly peel it off of her.

Charlie placed his daughter's hand in mine and then went to his seat.

"Beautiful," I whispered, so only she could hear. She blushed and I smiled. I wanted so badly to get the official stuff over with so I could hold her against me, kiss her as my wife and start building our life together.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to move at warp speed for me, except during the exchanging of our vows. I managed to get the words out of my mouth without messing up and embarrassing us both, and even though Bella had tears in her eyes as she spoke, she did, too. We smiled at each other a lot; the rest of the room didn't even exist for me. It was just us two standing alone, poised at the edge of our future and itching to get started.

After the kiss, which went on for a rather long time, we turned to face the audience.

"I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Edward Anthony Cullen!" the preacher loudly announced to the room.

The quartet started playing the light-hearted _Wedding Day at Troldhaugen _by Grieg. Everyone stood and clapped as we basked in all of the attention. I was smiling my ass off. I glanced at Bella the same time she looked up at me and she was smiling her sexy ass off, too.

Someone nudged me from behind, letting us know that it was time for us to walk back down that purple aisle. We slowly made our way through the congratulations, the pats on the back, the hugs, and the kisses. I was bursting with relief, happiness and a great need to get Bella all alone to myself somewhere in this building.

We were getting close to the back and the exit when someone grabbed my arm. "Congratulations son."

Shocked, I looked to my left and saw my mother and father standing in front of the two seats that had been empty at the beginning of the ceremony. When had they come in? Then, I was nudged from behind, a signal from someone in the wedding party to keep moving to the exit.

We swept through the doors in the back leaving the guests behind. There was lots of laughter, comments about how well everything had gone and a general sense of relief that it was all over. Bella went up on tip-toes and swept her arms around my neck, straining for a kiss. Our lips met briefly and then I pulled her close.

"I just saw my parents," I said into her hair, but I knew she'd heard me. She pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise…and something else. Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the room where I'd gotten changed, shutting the door behind us.

"You didn't tell me they RSVP-ed," I said, turning to face her. She was fooling with the ruffles of her dress and avoiding my eyes.

She sighed and finally looked at me. "They didn't. I called them three nights ago."

My mouth dropped open and I was surprised at the anger I suddenly felt at her interference. "You went behind my back and called them without telling me?"

She straightened, her brown eyes blazing. She wasn't playing with the gauzy dress anymore. Her hands were on her hips and she was staring me down.

"You went behind my back and submitted demo tapes to Julliard without telling me…remember?" I opened my mouth to object and make an argument that it wasn't the same thing, but she cut me off. "Wait, I'm not finished! I know why you did it. You knew I would never do it myself, and you _also_ knew that it was the right thing for me. I didn't have the confidence to do it; I never thought my singing was that great." Her voice softened. "But _you_ knew, and you did it for me because you loved me. I'm so grateful that you had the courage I didn't have and I can't wait to start Julliard with you."

She moved close enough to run her hand tenderly down my arm. "Me calling your parents is no different. I did it for you because I knew you couldn't, and I did it because I love you. You need to fix things with them or you're never going to be completely happy. Please don't be angry with me."

The door popped open and a somber Jake poked his head in. "Your parents want to talk to you, Edward."

Bella gave me one last pleading look. Most of my anger had faded anyway because, damn it, her argument made sense. I pulled her closer and kissed her on the forehead. "I don't want to fight with you, not on our wedding day," I murmured against her skin.

She squeezed my arms and pulled away. "It's okay. I'll let everyone know that you're going to be delayed. Take as much time as you need."

She stretched up and I met her halfway, brushing our lips together in a brief kiss. She left the room, and moments later my parents walked in.

They hadn't changed hardly any since I'd last seen them. There might have been a little more gray in my father's dark auburn hair, but that could have also been my imagination. My mother's favorite handbag hung from her arm. Why I remembered that she favored that old brown leather purse over all her others, I didn't know. Maybe it was just one of those silly little details we carry around in our heads about the people we love.

They looked well. Part of me wanted to just throw myself into their arms like I used to when I was a little boy. The other part of me was holding back. I'd expended so much energy through the years being hurt by their rejection that the anger had somehow gotten lost in the shuffle. It was here now and surprisingly strong.

My mother spoke first. "The music was lovely. You had to have been the one who selected it. They were all your favorites."

"Yes," I answered simply. An awkward silence ensued until my father broke it.

"Our flight was delayed, but we saw the majority of the ceremony," he said formally.

"Yeah, well you missed the first ceremony completely. My marriage to Emily," I snapped. "And then you missed her funeral five months later."

My mother sighed, her shoulders slumping just a bit. "You're right, and that's a discussion we need to have when we have more time. Right now your beautiful bride is waiting for you. We don't want to ruin things..."

"She's a very persuasive young lady," my father said, picking up the loose end of my mother's sentence. "We spent several hours talking with her on the phone. It's obvious that she loves you very much. She told us about Julliard. We're very happy they reinstated your scholarship."

"Yeah, it beats hooking," I said bitterly. There. It was out in the open. The prostitution. The reason they'd withheld their love and support from me for five long years.

My mother's blue eyes darkened. "It was unreasonable of you to expect us to approve of your lifestyle."

All of my pent-up guilt and rage finally broke free. "_My lifestyle?!_ Do you really think my life's goal was to grow up to be a prostitute?! Do you think I enjoyed it, Mom_? I hated it!_" I screamed. "How could you have carried me in your body, raised me from birth and shaped my childhood with your own beliefs and morals and then think me capable of actually enjoying a life like that?! Do you even know your own son?! _I did what I had to do for Emily!_"

The door burst open and suddenly Jake was in front of me, speaking calmly and trying to talk me down from the ledge. I glared at my parents over his shoulder while he tried to convince me that this was not the time or place to fight, that Bella and our guests were waiting for me and I didn't want to upset her with all of this today of all days, did I? My mother was crying and my father arms were wrapped tight around her as she sobbed.

"No more yelling, Edward. Just _talk_. Take it easy." He patted my shoulder and refused to move until I agreed to calm my temper. I nodded.

Jake turned and faced my parents, his voice calm, but firm. "I can vouch for what Edward said. We worked together at Leather & Lace and he despised it, but it was the only option at the time, the only way he could get his hands on the amount of money he needed to give Emily quality round-the-clock care. The day after she died, he quit. Does that sound to you like someone who loved their work?"

My father handed her his handkerchief. She wiped her face and nose with trembling hands. She tucked it into her sweater pocket, still sniffing. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," she said, her voice breaking. "I love my son and I miss him so much. Please, Edward…"

She reached for me. The pleading in her red, bloodshot eyes was too much for me to handle. I took a step and so did she. Moments later her purse plopped to the floor and her small frame was enfolded in my arms. My dad's strong arms were wrapped around both of us. Apologies were whispered back and forth, tears shed between all three of us. My father told me he loved me and that he never stopped loving me through it all, and that was a defining moment in our father/son relationship. I always knew it, but he'd never actually spoken the words. It meant a lot, and it helped push back some of my resentment toward him.

We pulled apart. My mother smoothed my jacket and fussed unnecessarily with the lapels. "You look so handsome today," she said, smiling. Then she sighed and dropped her hands. "Can you forgive me…forgive _us_…for abandoning you and not supporting you when you needed us? We withheld our love from you, thinking it would make you stop what you were doing, and that was wrong. _We_ were wrong. Will you forgive us for the horrible sin of pride?"

"If you will forgive me for what I did," I answered and I meant it.

Tears pooled in her eyes again.

"We do," my father answered in her stead. She nodded in agreement.

"And I do," I responded softly, which resulted in another emotional round of hugs between the three of us.

"Your bride is waiting," my father finally said. "We've held things up long enough."

I asked if they were staying for the reception and they were shocked at the suggestion that they would miss watching their son dance. My mother winked, her red eyes alight with mischief. She knew what a bad dancer I was.

"Bella's going to sing to me," I said. "You don't want to miss that. Her voice will blow you away."

My mother looped her arm through mine. "I can't wait to hear it."

* * *

><p><em>Heart beats fast<br>Colors and promises  
>How to be brave?<br>How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?  
>But watching you stand alone<br>All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow_

_One step closer_

_I have died everyday waiting for you  
>Darling don't be afraid I have loved you<br>for a thousand years  
>I'll love you for a thousand more<em>

The room was dim, lit only by the candles on the tables. Bella was singing to me as she'd promised. A small, wireless microphone was attached to the top of her dress so she could be heard, but she was oblivious, singing softly, and singing only for me. _A Thousand Years_. Her voice was clear and perfectly pitched. Her eyes were filled with the love she sang of. She'd wanted the song she'd chosen to be a surprise to me. Her choice was perfect. Poignant and perfect. I'd felt alone in my struggle to do right by Emily, alone and afraid until the night Bella entered my life. And even then, I'd fought so hard not to fall in love with her.

_Time stands still  
>Beauty in all she is<br>I will be brave  
>I will not let anything take away<br>What's standing in front of me  
>Every breath<br>Every hour has come to this_

_One step closer_

What had happened with Emily had taught me to appreciate the time I had, because, unlike what the words of the song said, fate could take Bella away from me in an instant. I couldn't prevent the bad things that would inevitably come our way as a couple, but I could certainly be brave and love her as fiercely as I could for as long as God allowed her to be a part of my life.

_I have died everyday waiting for you  
>Darling don't be afraid I have loved you<br>for a thousand years  
>I'll love you for a thousand more<em>

The song ended. The music faded and then stopped. Guests clapped and whistled their approval. Bella blushed. We kissed. Our life began.


	20. Chapter 20: Epilogue

**Chapter 20: Epilogue**

_**~ Five Years Later ~ **_

_**BELLA…**_

"I really can't talk right now, Alice."

I balanced precariously on one spiked heel while I tried to pry the tortuous shoe onto my other bare foot while I held my cell clutched in a death grip between my cheek and my shoulder to keep it from dropping into the toilet. And as I klutzed about the bathroom getting dressed, I kept my eyes glued to the counter top and the innocuous object that refused to let me look away.

"Are you singing tonight?"

"Yep," I answered as I felt the satisfying slide of leather over my Achilles Heel. The annoying shoe was on. Victory! "We're going to try out some new songs. Kinda nervous about that."

Midway through my studies at Julliard, I'd heard through the grapevine about a group of girls who had formed a rock band, _The Pink Bullets_, and who were in the market for a lead singer_. _ I'd mentioned it in passing during dinner with Edward and the rest, as they say, was history. He'd encouraged me to try it (had pestered me to death about it, actually) because their music was vastly different from the classical training I was receiving at school. He'd said that stretching my musical wings was a good thing, and that I shouldn't be afraid to try it; it would make me a better musician in the end. So, with the whispered words of my supportive husband—'I've got your back, babe'—echoing inside my head, I'd auditioned while he'd stood in the rear of the room smiling and nodding in approval. Of the tons of girls who'd tried out, they'd picked me, and I'd been in Seventh Heaven ever since.

"Damn, I wish we could come, but I have this show I'm getting ready for. I'm swamped. And Jake is in the living room underneath this huge pile of blueprints. Forgive us?" she asked, sounding pitiful.

I put my phone on speaker and sat it on the counter, right beside that hideous thing that seemed to be taking forever to do what the hell it was manufactured to do.

"I forgive you both," I said, spritzing my hair and styling it into small black spikes with my fingers. "You can catch us another time. No biggie."

"Huh. Jake just emerged out from under his papers. He's alive after all," she said, snickering. "He wants to talk to Edward for a minute." I heard his enthusiastic 'Hey, Bells!' greeting in the background.

"Edward's running late from work. Something came up. But, I'll give him the message."

Edward had been working for Julliard's Educational Outreach program for nearly three years. He mentored musically talented students in the city's partner schools, helping them improve their skills and techniques, and planning performances with them. It wasn't the Philharmonic, which was Edward's ultimate dream, but still, he loved it and he adored working with kids.

And like me, Edward had joined his own 'rebel' band to spread his musical wings. In his last year at Julliard, he and four other guys had formed a mixed ensemble called _Solar Wind_—a quintet consisting of one flute, two clarinets and two violins, of which Edward was one. Long dead composers probably turned in their graves when _Solar Wind_ tuned up. Their style was unique and edgy, and they were getting attention for turning classical music on its head with their own unique style.

"Anything wrong?" Alice asked, her BFF radar scope engaging. Even over the phone, her best friend could read her like a book.

It was strange for Edward to be late for anything. He was always punctual, plus he was planning on going to my performance with me tonight. When I'd asked why he was going to be late, he'd said he didn't have time to talk and that he'd fill me in later, and then he'd hurriedly said his goodbyes.

I glanced down at the counter. Nothing. _Shit. Just my luck that I bought the one defective one in the whole store._

"Nothing's wrong," I said, trying to sound upbeat and positive as I painted my lips a dark purple.

I replaced the lid on the lipstick and hazarded one last look down at the counter.

"Oh my god," I whispered weakly, my hand shaking. Alice apparently heard me and was frantically asking me through the phone what was wrong. I repeated myself, unable to find any other words besides 'oh my god' to express the utter joy that was consuming me at that moment.

"_Bella!"_ Alice screeched through the phone. "_What's wrong?! Are you okay?! Do I need to come down there?!"_

I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and my life before Edward Cullen flashed before me like a movie on fast-forward: Mike and his cold-shoulder emotional abuse, the wasted days at college trying to discover what I wanted to do with my life, the dead end office job that had left me drained and empty at the end of every week, the depressing thrift shop apartment in the seedy part of town. After Edward came immense love and acceptance, the constant encouragement from him to chase a dream that I'd never envisioned for myself, his emotional support when I'd felt on the verge of falling flat on my face, the incredible happiness of sleeping beside of him every night, and now this…

"I'M PREGNANT!" I shouted into the phone. I jumped up and down—as much as I was able to in 4-inch spike heels—while Alice squealed in excitement through the phone.

Edward and I had been trying for six months to get pregnant. I'd thought it would be easy (to hear my mother tell it), but every month we'd been disappointed. Edward had taken it much better than I had. He'd smiled each time, hugged me, and then winked, saying that in a few days we could start trying again. He'd end up making me laugh every time, but deep down I knew he'd been as disappointed as I'd been. We both wanted children so badly.

"Bella!"

Edward was home. I hurriedly said goodbye to Alice and skittered out of the bathroom on my perilously too-high heels to see Edward tossing his jacket onto the sofa. He stared at me, grinning his ass off like he had the juiciest secret in the universe tucked in his pocket and was going to explode if he didn't pull it out.

"Well, don't you look like the Cheshire cat," I observed, smiling. "Wanna share?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm quitting the Outreach Program." And he looked positively ecstatic about that, despite the fact that he loved working with the kids.

"And…?"

"I got a long-term sub position at the Philharmonic!" he shouted, grinning for all he was worth. I squealed, and if he'd been me, he'd have been jumping up and down on 4-inch spiked heels. Instead, he swooped me up in his arms and spun me around and around. We laughed and spun until I had to tell him to stop before I tossed my lunch all over him.

"It's just a one-year temporary position; the guy is taking medical leave, and I know I shouldn't be happy about that, but I can't help it. I have my foot in the door, Bella! I'm IN!" He whooped. "It's the second violin section, the thirtieth chair, but I don't care. I'm in and I'm going to make one hell of an impression so that when a permanent chair opens up somewhere, they're going to think of Edward Anthony Cullen first."

I was so proud of him, so happy that he'd finally realized his life-long dream of playing for the Philharmonic. Getting this job and raising classical hell with _Solar Wind _were almost enough to make the life of this beautiful god of a man in my arms blissfully complete. _Almost…_

"I have a surprise of my own," I said, grinning slyly.

He raised his eyebrows, curious.

"We're going to have a baby," I said softly.

No whoops. No spinning in circles and laughing, just a slow, beautiful smile and smoky gray eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You're sure?" he asked, his velvet voice trembling.

I nodded. "Absolutely sure."

He wiped at his eyes, pulled me roughly into his arms and we cried tears of joy together.

It was only supposed to be meaningless sex…

**The End**


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